


Once Upon A September

by Hekate1308



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Anastasia Fusion, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Amnesia, F/M, Human Castiel, Human Crowley, M/M, Prince Dean, Prince Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-20 14:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 31,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12435141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: All Michael knew was that he had woken up the morning after the rebellion, all memories of his old life gone. Now, eighteen and kicked out of the orphanage, he decided to start looking for his family.Meanwhile, Castiel was reluctantly helping Crowley to find someone who could impersonate the lost prince.Destiel Anastasia AU.





	1. Prologue

The family of Winchester had been reigning over their dominion for a long time, so long that their origins had already passed into the world of legends. For centuries, they had led their people with dignity and a sense of justice that was passed down from generation to generation; and even though the heir presumptive and his brother were only ten and six years old, it seemed like they had inherited many of the noble traits that had distinguished their ancestors.

Dean, fiercely protective of his brother and everyone he thought was being treated unfairly, was already being schooled in the arts of diplomacy and politics; and Sam, reading every book he could reach, promised to become a great scholar in his time. King John and Queen Mary couldn’t have been prouder of their boys.

They had all reasons to rejoice, for a shadow that had lain over the Kingdom for months was gone as well. Lucifer was a powerful wizard, that was true; but he had also secretly been conspiring against the throne, as King John’s cousin Lord Bobby had found out.

King John banished Lucifer on a spot, and for a while, everything went well.

And then it happened.

Lucifer, driven by his hatred of the Winchesters and his desire for revenge, cast a spell of unhappiness and unrest on the country; and within a year of him having been banished, the people rebelled for the first time in living memory.

They came at night, quietly, perhaps part of them suspecting that they were obeying a cruel master, but nonetheless unable to stop themselves.

All hell broke loose when someone set fire to the Winchester palace.

Dean didn’t know what was happening. He was woken up by screams and the sound of reaking glass and felt terribly confused when he called out and no one appeared. Determined to find Sam, he got up and ran towards the door.

Before he reached it, his father burst in, carrying Sam.

“Dean! Take your brother and run!” he put him down on the floor, the little boy immediately rushing to his brother, clinging to him.

“Dad – where’s Mom – “

An expression Dean had never seen on his father’s face made him stop talking. “Dean, go. Find Uncle Bobby, okay? He’ll keep you safe.”

He nodded and his father turned and left.

Dean didn’t know that he would never see him again.

He took Sam’s hand. “You heard Dad – we need to find Uncle Bobby. And then we’ll fix this.”

He had no idea how, or what “it” was, but he trusted his father.

“Okay Dean” Sam said, sniffling.

Dean didn’t understand as they made their way through the palace. Why were there so many people fighting and breaking their stuff apart? People only did this when their rules were mean and unjust, and his parents had never been that. They were good people. So why would anyone attack them?

“Dean” Sam whispered, the brothers carefully slinking past the rioters “I’m scared.”

“It’s all going to be okay buddy.”

He had to make Sam believe it so he could believe it himself.

They were walking through an empty hall when suddenly someone touched Dean’s elbow and he jumped. He turned around, ready to strike, but it was only that kitchen boy he sometimes saw around, the one who always smiled at him but never came close so they could play.

“I know where Lord Singer is.”

“You do?” he asked sceptically but Sam jumped at the chance. “Can you lead us to him?”

He nodded and grabbed Dean’s hand tight. “Come with me.”

Together, they went to another part of the castle, where –

“Boys! I have been looking for you all over!” Bobby rushed towards them and scooped them up.

“Bobby” Dean breathed, Sam starting to cry again, this time from relief. “He brought us here –“

“Who?”

“The boy from the kitchen –“

He turned around, but he was gone.

“We can’t afford the time to look for him”. Bobby sounded sorrowful. “We need to get going.”

“Are we going to find Mom and Dad?” Dean asked.

Bobby swallowed. “We’ll talk once we’re safe, okay?”

Dean could only nod because he realized there was something Bobby didn’t want to tell him.

He was scared to hear it.

“We need to go.”

“I can run, Uncle Bobby. You’ll be faster if you only have Sam to carry.”

He looked conflicted, but finally put him down.

“Stay near me at all times” he told him, and Dean was careful to keep up with Bobby. He couldn’t help but worry about the boy, though. He hadn’t looked older than Dean. Why had he run away? They could have left together. Bobby would have kept them all sage. He always did. Was he in trouble now? In danger? And when would these people stop destroying everything? Why had they done it in the first place? Dean was confused, and scared, and dizzy, but he kept following Bobby and Sam.

He needed a while to understand Bobby was leading them towards the railway station. He had been here a few times with his parents, when they visited other kingdoms.

“Bobby, wait! If we get on the train, how are Mom and Dad going to find us?”

He thought of the look on Bobby’s face when he’d asked about his parents back in the palace. He remember it suddenly, from when he’d been very little and Uncle Bobby had been the one to tell him and Sam that their grandfather was –

No. He refused to believe Mom and Dad could just be gone like that.

“Dean, we need to leave!”

Uncle Bobby, he had to trust Uncle Bobby, Dad had told him to go find him.

Bobby jumped unto the train, Sam in his arms, and Dean ran to keep up. He just had to hop on too, he could do it, he was a big boy –

He jumped. Bobby tried to grab him, but failed.

He only had time to register that he was very very scared before he felt pain at the back of his head and everything turned black.  


	2. Chapter One

**Eight years later**

**A small town outside Lawrence**

“Please don’t leave!“ Kevin cried against Michael’s legs. With a heavy heart, he kneeled down and looked him in the eyes.

“I know you don’t want me to go, buddy, but I have no choice. I’m eighteen now; time to work for a living.”

Kevin sniffled. “But you make everything better!”

Michael managed not to let his feelings show. He was already worried about the children he was going to leave behind. For three years now, he’d been the oldest kid in the orphanage, ever since Benny had turned eighteen and been forced to leave, just like Michael now; and he had looked after them as best as he could, protecting them from Ramiel, the director. God knew who had ever put him in charge.

“Michael!” the very man he was thinking about called out, “You’ll be late for your new job!”

Michael rolled his eyes. If he could be said to have any plan at all, it was to act like Benny and get away from the factory Ramiel had put him in as fast as he could. He didn’t care about the wage he wouldn’t be getting; no, what he cared about was –

“Michael?” Kevin asked as he rubbed his face to get rid of the tear tracks on his skin. Children like them grew up fast.”Are you gonna go find your family, like you said? And if you do, are you gonna come back for us?”

It might have been a mistake to tell the little ones about his amnesia, and that for whatever reason Michael was sure he had a family out there, looking for him. But everyone needed hope, and if it helped them to watch him leave...

“Sure thing.”

Kevin hugged him. Michael ignored another call from Ramiel and stepped up to Bela, the next oldest orphan.

“Give him hell, you here?”

She flashed him a smile. “Of course. What else do you expect?”

“Atta girl.” Michael swallowed to get rid of the lump in his throat. He and Bela hadn’t exactly seen eye to eye in a long time, but they had slowly become friends over the last year or so, when it had finally dawned on Michael that he couldn’t leave the children without a protector.

She unexpectedly drew him into a hug. “I hope you find your family” she whispered into his ear.

“Thank you” he whispered back.

And then there was Ramiel showing him the door; the children waving and crying “Goodbye!”; the door slamming behind him; and then Michael was left alone in the world.

He didn’t even know his last name. Hell, Michael wasn’t even the first name he’d been given at birth. Anything and anyone he might have known before that day after the revolution, when he woke up in a hospital like so many, was obscured by shadows it hurt to think too much about.

But he was certain he had a family. And they must be looking for him. You just don’t forget your kid when it disappeared.

Of course it was a possibility that they’d been killed in the revolution, but Michael didn’t want to believe that. He chose to imagine that somewhere, people were thinking of him and looking, waiting for him.

He reached the crossroads and realized he had no idea where to go.

One arrow pointed to the small town where the factory was located.

The other to Lawrence, where he had woken up eight years ago, not even knowing his own name.

His original plan had been to get at least a little bit of money through work in the factory before he left, but on the other hand...

Something was calling out to him. Or maybe someone.

He sighed. It had begun to snow, and he put his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

“In case anyone should listen... a sign would be a good idea right about now” he said aloud, feeling silly.

Just then, a crow flew out of a tree nearby, startling him. He flinched.

A single black feather fell down on the path to Lawrence.

Michael chuckled. As good a reason as any.

He reached down and picked the feather up, letting it rest in the palm of his hand.

That was it, then.

And Michael, the boy without a last name, the boy who had been ridiculed because he couldn’t even remember what his mother had looked like, the boy who had nothing in the world but hope in his heart, took the first step on the path back to his family.

**Los Angeles**

“Sam” Bobby said slowly, “I know you want to find out what happened to your brother, and so do I. But do you really think another public plea for information is the way to go?”

They had been down this right too many times before. Sam didn’t remember Dean as well as Bobby did; and so he had been taken in by a fair share of imposters in his never-ending hope that he would find his brother.

The only reason that Bobby had gone along with everything so far was that he had never forgiven himself for leaving Dean behind.

His cousin had asked him to look after his children. He had made him promise that he would always protect them on that awful night when they had lost John, Mary and their home.

Bobby still couldn’t explain what had made the people rebel. John and Mary had been good rulers, even excellent ones; and until one or two months before that day, people had seemed content and happy.

Unless it had been Lucifer. There were rumours that the new “president” of Lawrence, Metatron, had made him his chief adviser; only nobody knew because, unlike John and Mary, Metatron largely stayed out of the public eye, maybe to make people forget he even existed.

If only Bobby had managed to save both heirs to the throne.

If only he had looked better after Dean.

He should have jumped after him, he should have made sure he got on that train –

“Dean is still out there. I know it. I can feel it.”

Sam had been saying the same since he was six years old. Strangely enough, it was the one thing that gave Bobby some hope too, because the brothers had always been incredibly close, almost as if they shared a psychic bond.

“Alright, let’s try one more time. But Sam...” He swallowed. He had no idea how to tell the fourteen-year-old that his brother was likely gone.

“It’s gonna work, Uncle Bobby. I know it.”

Sam was beaming.

He couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

Plus, it wasn’t like they couldn’t afford it. When John had first told him about their funds in foreign countries, “Just in case”, he’d thought he was just paranoid. Now he was glad for them. He could hire the best tutors for Sam, and they would never be without food or those comforts the prince had grown up with.

Tomorrow, he promised himself. Just like he had done every day for the last eight years.

**Lawrence, sometime later**

“I found it. The perfect way to get out of all our problems.”

Castiel looked up warily. Crowley’s plans were usually reckless – and occasionally anything but legal.

Which made it all the more irritating that they tended to work.

He had been a powerful and respected business man before the revolution – had even had dinner with the royal family, and as far as Castiel knew, they had even liked him a little – and he was still bitter that Metatron had taken over and proceeded to ruin him.

That had not broken his spirit, however, and he was well known as a provider of illegal or otherwise unavailable products.

Castiel normally would never have chosen to associate with him, but his brother Gabriel had once more got into debt; and this time, it had landed him in prison.

He would never have been incarcerated for death in the old days. Everything seemed so much better in his memories. Yes, his family had been poor, yet the work in the kitchen hadn’t been hard and they had had good quarters in the palace. Plus King John and Queen Mary had made sure that anyone under the age of eighteen could see a tutor at least three times a week.

But perhaps it hadn’t been. Maybe he was just trying to cling to  a better past because the present –

“Come on, at least take a look, Feathers.”

Crowley thought it was hilarious that he was named after an angel. He forced himself not to roll his eyes.

“I was going to” he snapped. “Only I have been working all week to try and at least get some money to pay back my brother’s creditors, while you have been playing your little games – “

“I procure unique items for a select clientele. That’s hardly “playing”. And take a look, please. It should interest you too, considering your past.”

His past...

He read the paper and his heart clenched. Objectively, he knew there was nothing he could have done on that terrifying night, nothing to make sure the princes could flee safely. He had done his outmost and brought them to their uncle, it just hadn’t been enough.

The older Prince had gone missing, presumed dead, but his uncle and brother wouldn’t give up.

Castiel remembered the green-eyed boy well. He’d watched him and Sam play now and then, wishing he was an aristocrat himself and could join them. The others kitchen boys had told him that the princes never minded if someone else wanted to play with them, whether they were from a noble family or not, but he had never dared to approach them.

“I fail to see how the royal family asking for information on Prince Dean is going to help us earn money” he finally said.

“Castiel, you giraffe.  I am not talking about finding the prince. I am talking about finding an impostor and collect the reward.”

“You would present the royal family with an impostor, making them think that their relative returned to them?”

Even for Crowley, that was needlessly cruel. At least in Castiel’s opinion. He probably thought he was being clever.

Crowley rolled his eyes. “In these trying times, we have to think of ourselves first. You obviously don’t get that, or you would let your brother rot in jail.”

“Prince Dean is most likely dead, and deserves to be mourned!” he hissed.

“Don’t you think I know that?”

For a second, Crowley’s mask slipped as he continued. “I knew the royal family. And not just as a occasional dinner guest. King John respected my advice. The queen enjoyed hearing about other countries I had travelled to. And then the boys... They _liked_ me, alright? In their own way. Prince Dean went so far as to run towards me when I was announced...”

He swallowed, and for the first time Castiel wondered if his attempts to undermine the economy Metatron was so desperate to save were about more than just bitterness about his crumpled empire. And that the old flag of their country he kept on a wall in his shop, thereby defying all laws passed eight years ago, might not just be a simple statement against the new president.

He’d said the family had _liked_ him. Precious few people had ever bothered to like the business man, even in his days of affluence, as far as Castiel knew.

Then Crowley shook his head and became the bastard Castiel knew so well once more. “What I meant to say is, if there is something the King and the Queen would have wanted, it would have been that we do what we can to scramble by until happier times.”

Castiel sighed, but what choice did he have? He couldn’t leave Gabriel in jail. He had to help his brother.

“So what are you suggesting?”

“Easy enough. I should soon find someone, considering some of my old connections are still alive and well...”

Castiel looked at the paper again.

Such honest, pleading words, looking for a lost brother and nephew...

He shook his head. He couldn’t afford to care about that.


	3. Chapter Two

**Lawrence**

Castiel groaned.

Crowley, while apparently unshaken at the spectacle in front of them, was quite as annoyed, if the way he showed the last Dean impersonator the door was anything to go by.

“Dear God, these guys were all pathetic.”

“Maybe you can’t just fake being of noble blood” Cas tried, but Crowley shook his head.

“No, Feathers. I will admit that a little something called dignity is always a plus, and that there is a certain charm one’s either born with or doesn’t have, but surely someone has to know how to play a prince.”

“There’ve been no plays in over eight years. Maybe all actors – “

“Come on. I’m still here, you’re still here. Someone in this godforsaken kingdom has to remember how to act.”

“Republic” he corrected him automatically.

“Not in my house.” Crowley sighed. “I think we should go to the Palace, check out a few of the old family paintings. Maybe if we get someone who looks enough like him, we can train him.”

“He was just a child – “

“Hair and eye colour don’t just change spontaneously when you reach a certain age. Let’s go!”

Castiel followed him because he had nothing else to do.

**Lawrence, a few miles away**

 Michael had no idea what he was doing.

Sure, he knew something as stupid as a black feather had told him to go to Lawrence, but now he was there...

It wasn’t too late yet to return and go to the factory. It wasn’t too late to at least get a job.

But there was something about the city drawing him in.

Drawing him to a specific place.

He ended up standing in front of the old palace. Somehow, he knew exactly how it had looked like back in the days of glory, the days only few dared whisper about; the days of the Winchesters.

Michael had always been fascinated by the former royal family, but not because they had been by all reports excellent kings right until the revolution no one could explain; no, because of the tales of how much the king and queen had loved their children, Prince Dean and prince Sam.

He had always imagined that if he found his family, they would welcome him with as much devotion.

These days, the palace was deserted. Few dared approach it, but no one even looked at Micahel as he approached it.

It was easy to gain access.

Michael strolled through the abandoned corridors, imagining how it must have been, almost a decade ago. Had the princes played in the hallways? Had they been allowed to interact with the other children? Had the king and the queen made sure they saw them at least once a day, despite their many obligations?

He stopped and leaned down to pick up a few pieces of colourful glass. It wasn’t difficult to guess that they came from the window that had been broken by a brick, most likely on the night of the revolution most people wished had never taken place.

The glass still sparkled in the sun whine he held his hand up.

_“Mom, what are they doing?”_

_She smiled at him. “They are renewing our windows... and this time, there’ll be colours.”_

_“I love colours!”_

_She chuckled and ran her fingers through his hair. “I know. And once they’re done, you can see the colours dancing across the wall.”_

He shook his head, unable to explain where the scene had come from. It happened now and then, faces and rooms popping into his mind and fading away just as quickly. He knew there was no point to hold onto the blonde woman; she would disappear like everything else he’d ever tried to grasp about his past.

Michael continued walking around, unable to explain what he was searching for, but feeling that it was important.

Finally he came into what must have been the throne room. At least it had been called that; the Winchesters had in fact done away with the throne or any royal regalia generations ago, one of their tutors had confided to them one day; King John and Queen Mary had been sitting on simple chairs when they had listened to their subjects’ petitions. But once upon a time, there had a throne, and therefore the room would always be called that.

Even now, with Michael standing amongst the ghosts of a recent past that felt centuries away.

Just like his own.

He slowly made his way through the room the room, walking up to where the royals’ chairs would have stood. They had sat in front of a painting of their family.

The Winchesters and their two beloved sons.

Michael’s eyes scrutinized every single one of them, until he was just starting at the oldest child. Prince Dean.

They must have been about the same age. At least Michael believed he had been ten years old, minus or plus a year or two at the most, when he had been found.

Dean. A good name, really. He didn’t much care for Michael, but it was as good as any other until he found his real one-

“Now, now, what are you doing here?” a voice drawled behind him. He reeled around.

**The palace, a few moments earlier**

“It looked different back when I was a child.”

“And the prize for the most asinine comment goes to – “

“Not what I meant” Cas mumbled. “It seemed – bigger, that was what I was trying to say.”

“Everything seemed bigger back then.” Crowley pointed at a dark corridor. “That was where the royal suites were located. Dean had his painted all in blue, and with lots of toy carriages. He loved them.”

Castiel was beginning to wonder just how much time Crowley had spent in the palace before the revolution. As a kitchen boy, he’d never been informed about the guests of the King.

“The kitchens are then other way” he replied. “I always enjoyed cooking.”

The revolution had hit his whole family hard. The income the children had provided – he and Gabriel had both been working in the palace, although his happy-go-lucky brother had been a page rather than a kitchen boy – had disappeared over night, just like their tutors and their hopes of something better for all of them.

“Don’t look like that” Crowley scolded him. “Things are looking bleak, I grant you that. But either you are like all the other sheep and just drudge along, or you try to do something better.”

“I don’t think betraying a family’s hope is necessarily – “

“Details, Feathers, useless details.”

They had reached the throne room, where the old family painting was still hanging from a wall, five happy faces staring at nothing.

Or rather, someone.

Crowley reacted first.

**Now**

It was a good thing Castiel wasn’t alone, because he was looking at one of the most gorgeous men he had ever seen.

He had long been aware of his desires, and thankfully people like him were no longer persecuted in Lawrence; not even Metatron had dared change the Winchesters’ policy of live and let live.

“Aren’t you pretty” Crowley mused. “I have to say, for a burglar you give a girl all sorts of naughty ideas.”

“If I’m a burglar, you tow are as well” the main answered smoothly.

“What an astute observation, I can tell we – “ Crowley began but stopped abruptly, frowning. His eyes flew from the young man (maybe two or three years younger than Castiel, but why he registered that, he couldn’t say) to the painting and back again, and it didn’t take Castiel long to realize what he was thinking about.

The man had vibrant green eyes and brunette hair, like the boy Castiel remembered leading through the palace as it had been destroyed.

Crowley cleared his throat. “I think we’ve got off on the wrong foot. Name’s Crowley, this is Castiel. Who are you?”

He looked at them, clearly suspicious, but seemed to decide to risk it. “Michael.”

“Michael and?”

“And nothing. I don’t ask about your first name either.”

“Castiel is my first name.”

It was the only thing to say he could think of.

Michael – somehow, the name didn’t seem to suit him, like a piece of clothing a number too small – snorted. “Alright. So, last name?”

“Novak.”

“What about you, creepy guy?”

“No one has ever heard my first name and lived, my dear.”

“Not your dear.”

Crowley suddenly stepped up to him to scrutinize him. To his credit, Michael didn’t step back.

“What the hell – “

“Anyone ever tell you that you bear an uncanny resemblance to the lost Prince?”

He laughed, but it was not a nice laugh, not a happy laugh, not one Castiel wanted to hear from this beautiful person ever again.

“What is this going to be? Some “make a poor schmuck believe he’s actually a prince” joke? This ain’t Cinderella, pal. My own folks didn’t like me enough to stick around and I ended up in a hospital with no idea who I was. Still don’t know. So if you could kindly – “

“He’s got spunk. That’s good” Crowley mused as if he hadn’t heard him, “Dean was only ten years old, but you could already tell he’d be trouble when he grew up.”

“What – you knew the Prince?”

“Crowley” Castiel said resignedly, “Knew everyone. Still does.”

Crowley smirked. “Remember that.”

“I will – look, guys, I really don’t care, so I will just – “

“Now, now, not so fast” Crowley said, reaching out for him.

Michael answered by shoving him to the side.

“Alright, alright” he raised his hands. “No touching. More’s the pity, but as you wish.”

Michael huffed. “What do you want?”

“You see, we’re in a bit of trouble – “

“You are” Castiel said firmly.

“Come on, fathers, we’re in this together.”

“Because you decided we are.”

“Alright guys can you do anything else than bicker for half a minute? This one” Dean pointed at Crowley, “Clearly has an offer of some sort to make, and right now I’ve got nothing – I might even be desperate enough to take it.”

It was music to Crowley’s ears, no doubt, but Castiel would rather not have involved someone who looked so _pure_ in their scheme.

 “Just hear me out. I am guessing you are not the biggest fan of our president either?”

“How do you know that?” Michael asked, his eyes narrowing. Naturally, he was suspicious. Metatron’s agents were everywhere.

If Crowley hadn’t had his own reasons to want him gone, Cas could have easily imagined he’d have been one of them.

“Because you’d hardly be here, staring adoringly at a picture of the royal family if you were an admirer of his?”

“I wasn’t staring adoringly” Michael muttered, “I was looking at it. I was curious.”

“My point exactly. Now, here’s the thing. The one who has a right to the throne – the one who could kick Metatron out – is Prince Dean.” Crowley gestured towards the portrait. “Prince Sam will never be seen as having a better right to the crown until it is proven that his brother is dead, and that’s practically impossible. And the family has been looking for Dean ever since he disappeared. So we thought we’d find someone who looked like him – “

“An imposter, you mean” Michael said.

“Exactly. Hell, we could even be open about it with the royal family – I am sure they are eager to get rid of the president.”

Castiel wasn’t sure Crowley was telling the truth. He certainly wanted the money the Winchesters were ready to pay.

On the other hand, he really hated Metatron, so who knew? It would be just like him to keep his real motives a secret, too.

“So you want me to do what? Play the Prince? I have no idea what to do! I don’t even know with which fork to eat dessert!”

“That can easily be arranged. We only need you to be believable for a few months. Then you can step down and let Prince Sam have the throne.”

Any sane person, Castiel knew, would say no. And yet, despite everything, he desperately wanted him to come with them.

Michael blinked. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but fine. I’m in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, please? (Sorry for begging, it's an unsure kind of day)


	4. Chapter 4

Michael knew he should have fled the second the two strangers accosted him, but part of him was curious where this would lead. He had nothing to lose anyway.

And then Crowley told him.

Now, technically Michael knew that they were ruled by a president who’d come to power after the royal family had been killed or forced to leave the country; but until now, it had had little consequence in his life. Ramiel had given him much greater reason to worry about his well-being than the president, seemingly so far away; and concerning the King and the Queen, he had never wondered about them, at least not in the sense that they should return to the throne. He’d always listened eagerly to storied about how much they must have loved their children, and that it was pity those that did were taken too soon while others left theirs in the hands of someone like Ramiel.

But hearing Crowley speak about taking over, helping those who had lost their right to the throne back –

Michael had heard the stories. About how everything had been better under the Winchesters. How much better orphans and other charity cases had been cared for, not because they were charity cases or because it looked good, but simply out of principle.

It would give him something to do, and not only that; it would be the right thing to do. People were suffering under the new laws and regulations, and it could only get better, right? At least a King who actually allowed his subjects to have a say in what and how he did would be preferable to a President who never did, and who was most likely working with an evil sorcerer.

So he quickly decided, “I’m in.”

He definitely hadn’t thought about the other man, the quiet guy with the really blue eyes, while he had been wondering what to do.

Alright, so he was pretty good-looking. And Michael, from his limited experience of sneaking away some nights and go to the only bar in the small town he had grown up in, knew he liked guys as well as girls. But he definitely didn’t feel like getting involved with someone he was going to commit a crime with.

“Excellent”. Crowley rubbed his hands, smiling in an unsettling manner. And yet Dean didn’t feel scared or even wary of him. Same with Castiel; somehow, they seemed eerily familiar.

He cleared his throat. “So now what?”

“Well, first of all we have to educate you. I am guessing you haven’t been brought up in the best circumstances?”

He’d already been suspecting that Crowley could be a bastard when he wanted to be.

“Crowley” Castiel admonished him, finally stepping up to them. “If Michael is – “

“It’s alright, Cas. I’m an orphan.”

Michael needed a moment to realize that he had just given the man a nickname.

Crowley raised an eyebrow.

“Already shortening his name? How cute. Just how soon might I expect an announcement then, your Highness?”

“Don’t call me that” Michael snapped, “at least not when we’re alone” he added when he realized that was exactly what this was all about.

“Quick learner, I see. That’s something at least” Crowley answered, once more studying the painting on the wall, getting lost in memories of times hone by, it seemed.

Michael couldn’t say he knew the feeling, but he really wished he did.

“I am sorry about your family” Cas, who had neither objected nor in any other way reacted to the nickname, said quietly.

“Not your fault. I can’t even remember them, anyway.”

“Oh? Were you too small when you...” Cas trailed off. “Sorry. My brother keeps telling me that I am too blunt – “ He stopped.

“No, no, it’s alright. I actually... I can’t remember anything before the day of the rebellion” he admitted. Normally, he took some time to get to know people before confessing to his amnesia, but somehow, he didn’t feel he needed to do that with Cas. “I don’t even know if Michael is my real name.”

“Interesting.”

Michael waited, but Crowley had nothing else to say. Surprising. He could have sworn the guy had a comment for every occasion.

“That’s...” Cas obviously didn’t know how to react, and Michael chuckled. “It’s alright. I have had eight years to get used to it. It’s not really that bad – at least I have no idea what I lost, right?”

Cas swallowed and looked away. Michael’s heart clenched. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to touch a sore spot – “

“No, it’s – like you said, it’s been years, I shouldn’t – my brother and I were working here.” He waved his hands around to show he meant the palace, and Michael tried very much not to call him cute in his head. He didn’t really succeed. “He was a page, I was a kitchen boy. The Winchesters were very good to their servants. My parents... they didn’t take – it was difficult. They passed away a few years ago. My brother and I... he got into trouble recently. I’m just trying to – “

“Hey” Michael said when he realized Cas was getting chocked up. “It’s alright. We’re gonna fix this, okay?”

“How touching. May I remind you that I am still in the room?”

“No one’s keeping you from leaving” Michael pointed out.

Crowley sighed. “Alright then. Let’s go.”

Michael had never been to Lawrence before, that he could remember ( _ha_ , he thought, _no one say I am not funny_ ). It was much bigger than the town where the orphanage was located, but what really got to him was just how utterly depressing it all seemed. People barely smiled, most just hurried from one place to another, and even the stores were bleak.

“Has it always been like this?” he asked Crowley, since he assumed the older man would remember.

“On the contrary. Back in the old days, people came from around the world to see Lawrence. We were a cultural metropolis. That all changed during the rebellion, of course.”

“But then why did the people rebel in the first place?”

“No one knows – oh, who am I kidding, everyone knows. Lucifer. No other reason. And they were so weak they let themselves be caught in his spell” Crowley spat. “I never felt tempted to rebel. I was the one who – “ he stopped.

“Yes?” Michael prompted him, realizing that Cas was just as intrigued as he was.

“I was the one who warned Lord Singer about the wizard, alright?” Crowley finally admitted. “I could tell he was up to no good.”

Crowley must be a royalist through and through, Michael reflected; he was just puzzled as to why Cas looked so surprised.

“I thought you were out of the country during the rebellion.”

“Yes I was. I had business to attend to. Now I – it doesn’t matter. The past is the past. We can only work on fixing the present.”

“Why do I have the feeling it won’t be as easy as you make it out to be?”

“I never said it would be. But we have to try.”

**Los Angeles**

“Sam” Bobby sighed, “That is the third tutor you have sent away in the last month alone.”

Sam pouted. “He was trying to tell me I am the heir of the throne. They all were. But that’s not true! Dean is out there! When I tried to explain, they said I was just making stuff up because I’m still a kid!”

The boy was smart, and Bobby couldn’t have loved him more if he had been his own son, but some things had to be dealt with. He was he was playing dirty, but it would have to do. “Say, Sam, remember how Dean always looked after you.”

“Of course.”

His eyes were filling with tears, which was the last thing Bobby wanted, and he hastened to add, “So you remember how he told you to listen to your tutors, whether you needed to be admonished or not?”

Sam smiled slightly at that, and nodded.

“See. So Dean would want you to listen, no matter what the say. In private, yoiu can disagree all you want, alright? But sometimes we have to maintain one opinion in public, and another when we’re alone. It’s our burden as much as our duty.”

Sam thought about it and finally nodded. “Alright, Uncle Bobby. But Dean is the heir, and when he comes back, everything will return to how it should be.”

How easy it must seem for a fourteen-year-old, Bobby reflected. Once Dean returned, the people would stand behind him in a way they wouldn’t rally for Sam, and the Winchesters would return to the throne.   
Sam didn’t worry about Metatron or Lucifer simply because for him, they were in the wrong.

Now, if they ever had a chance to come close, Bobby would make sure they would have to think ofg neither ever again. He hadn’t forgotten. He would never forget.

_“Bobby!”_

_Finally, he had found John and Mary, but it was too late. John was clutching Mary’s lifeless body. He stared into the unseeing eyes and thought about how just yesterday they had joked at dinner that Dean would order all the pies in the city be kept solely for him once he became king._

_“John!” He shook his cousin’s shoulder, but apart from repeating his name, the King didn’t react._

_Bobby had no other choice but to slap him. “John! The boys!”_

_If only they had stayed in their quarters. They would have been near the children then. But John and Mary had thought they could calm down the populace, and Bobby had gone in search of the guards, who as it had turned out, had all joined in the rebellion for reasons he couldn’t comprehend._

_And he had returned to late and it had cost them Mary._

_John finally looked up. “The boys. I need to find the boys.”_

_“I’ll ho, you – “_

_“No, Bobby – they are my son’s. Mary’s sons. I have to get them. Bobby – they can’t have her body. Please, please, you have to help – “_

_He realized what John was asking of him and felt nauseous. But it was true. God knew what they would do once they got their hands on –_

_He nodded. John squeezed his shoulder and left._

_Bobby didn’t know then that he would never see his cousin alive again. All he knew was that he had to act, and so he carried Mary’s corpse – how light she was, almost lighter than either of the boys, as if the departed spirit had carried more weight than any of them had realized – to one of the wings that was already burning and deserted._

_He tried to pray for Mary as he let the flames consume her body, but he couldn’t find the words, just like all those years ago when Karen had died._

_The boys. He had to find the boys._

_He was about halfway to the balcony he was sure John had been running to in order to try and get the people to see what they were doing one last time when a small body collided with his._

_“No!”_

_The boy clawed at him. “You can’t go! The King tried to, and they screamed, and he cried out, and I think – “_

_He was desperately trying to get something across, and Bobby could easily guess, but even as his heart sank, he couldn’t –_

_He stepped up to the window, the boy choosing to stay behind._

_Bobby was glad he had._

_The people had put John’s head on a spike._

_He stepped back, knowing instinctively that he would have no time to process what he had just seen._

_“I’ll bring the princes” the boy whispered. “Please, sir, stay here.”_

_And he hurried away._

_Bobby would never know how he had found the boys. Or what had become of the brave little guy._

Yes. Bobby would do his utmost to ensure Sam’s safety, against anyone who might hurt him.

No matter who that might be.

If push came to shove –

H would even protect him from learning exactly what had happened to Dean. 


	5. Chapter 5

At least he wasn’t homeless anymore.

Granted, that might not have been the best reason to go along with such an insane plot, but it was more than Michael had been looking forward to before, so it had to count for something.

“I am a little surprised” he confided in Cas after he had shown him his room in Crowley’s dilapidated mansion.

“Surprised about what? I’m afraid you’ll have to be a bit more specific” he dead-panned and Dean hid a smile.

“I can see you working with Crowley, but I definitely didn’t think you’d be living together too.”

Cas grimaced.

“I have no choice. I am currently saving all the money I can. Metatron threw my brother in jail for his debts.”

Michael winced. It was well-known what awaited people in the debtor’s prison. In fact, many of those Michael had grown up around had made jokes about it; that even though they had nothing, it was better than having less than nothing and owing somebody something.

“I’m sorry.”

“I told him a million times not to borrow money. We were scraping by. Not exactly affluent, but still...”

“Trust me, I get that. I mean, I have nothing, not even a brother, but I also have no debts, so...” he trailed off. He had always wandered if he had siblings. He would have liked to think so. Looking after the little guys in the orphanage had told him that he’d rather have been a big brother than anything else, but he would have taken an older sibling if it just meant someone cared.

Cas gently touched his shoulder. “You don’t have nothing anymore. Crowley’s plans might be... insane, but they usually yield results. Of whatever variety.”

Results. Dean was suddenly reminded that the man he was talking to was after the reward for finding the lost prince, and considering his brother was in debt, that probably trumped any altruistic motive of getting the Winchesters back on the throne.

Not that he couldn’t understand. He’d rather have money and a free brother than anything else, too. But then, he would rather have anything than he had now, which was actually nothing –

He shook his head and stepped away.

Cas’ face fell and Michael tried not to hate himself for it.

“Michael – “

“I’ll just – no offense, but I could really use a nap” he told him. In the orphanage, being alone had been a luxury. There had always been curious little ears, watchful eyes, empty hands ready to grab whatever was his at the beginning; and later, there had been cries and children begging not to leave them alone. He had never been able to say no. But they were all in the past now, they had a new protector they would grow to love, and soon they would forget all about him.

Yes, he could really use some rest.

* * *

 

“There you are. I trust our guest has settled in well?”

“He’s not our guest” Cas grumbled. “This is not my home.”

“And you love to remind me of that. For the record, I don’t enjoy living like this anymore than you do.”

Cas knew the place must once have been beautiful. Most likely, everyone rich and famous and with influence at court had visited Crowley at one time. But now, the plaster was crumbling, most of the furniture had been sold, and it looked almost as desolate as the palace had. If he were Crowley, he’d have sold the house a long time ago. Maybe he was holding on to his past? That didn’t sound like the older man at all, but who was Cas to judge.

He was, after all, in on his plan too.

“Do you really think this can work?” he forced himself to ask. “Michael has lived in an orphanage his whole life – “

“Not his whole life.”

“The past that he can remember, then” Cas corrected himself. “I was a kitchen boy, and I’m not sure I could imitate a prince.”

Good then that you don’t have to.”

“Crowley, you do realise this is insane?”

“Of course” he answered matter-of-factly. “Most of this is insane, just like the world. In fact, I think the country went mad eight years ago and hasn’t had a chance to heal yet.”

“Including yourself?”

“Oh Cassie, I was insane long before the rebellion. But in my own way, it worked. And i want that back.”

Sometimes, Crowley scared him.

“So” he said, gesturing towards the table, “i have already collected most of what we need...”

Cas was surprised to see many banned books. “Where did you get those?”

“As I have often said before, I still have my connections. And some of them I already owned. Don’t forget King John liked it when I brought books back from my travels.”

“Crowley...” Cas said slowly. “What you told Dean... are you really trying to –“

“Let’s just say, I wouldn’t say no to the money, and if there’s any other effect...”

“So you lied.”

“No.”

“You acted like it was your plan to get rid of Metatron.”

“It might as well be. I mean, what do we have to lose?”

“My brother’s in prison!”

“Quite frankly that is your problem.”

“Sometimes” Cas said bitterly “I wonder if you’re even human.”

“Sometimes” Crowley replied simply, “I wonder the same.”

* * *

 

The bed was more comfortable than the one he’d had to share with three of the munchkins ever night, not that Dean was surprised about that. What he was baffled about was why Crowley even bothered to keep living in this ruin of a house. It must have been ransacked during the rebellion too; that certainly would give him even more reasons to wish Metatron gone, but as long as he stayed here, wasn’t he just another target?

Dean tossed and turned on the bed, unable to go to sleep, trying and failing not to think of Cas.

So his brother was in prison. It certainly made his role in their scheme understandable. Michael wanted to believe that, if he had had siblings, he would have been ready to do as much for them as Cas was happy to risk for this brother who had apparently got both of them into trouble.

Sometimes, the kids at the orphanage had broken things or eaten more than they should. Dean had invariably taken the blame himself. He had already been used to the beatings, and there had been no point in allowing another child to be hurt.

His chest ached. He might have fantasized about having his room, about being alone, sometimes; but now he found that on the contrary, he felt lonelier than ever before. The other children might not have understood him – indeed, at the beginning, he’d been the odd one out, they’d said he talked funny and was too clean-cit – but in a way they had become his family, a really tangible one he could care for instead of the one he dreamed about.

He took a few deep breaths and forced himself to relax. First, he was going to take a nap, then he was going to deal with all of this.

Right or wrong, he’d made a choice, and he intended to stick with it.

* * *

 

“I never realised how old the Winchester family is” Cas said, perusing the books.

“At least five hundred years, although their roots are somewhat obscure” Crowley replied.

“You seem to have done a lot of research.”

“I like to know what I am getting myself into.”

And he really had got himself into something, there could be no doubt about it. But unlike Cas, he could have left the country anytime.

He just didn’t understand Crowley’s reasoning.

But that was a worry for another day, since Dean suddenly emerged from the hallway, clearly just having woken up from his nap.

**The New Palace**

Sometimes, Lucifer wondered if it might not have been a better tactic to try and control the Winchesters rather than allow Metatron to take over. Je could of course have taken the throne for himself; but to keep an entire people enchanted for a long enough time to subdue all their suspicions concerning him would have drained him of his powers, and then what would he have done? No, he need a puppet; someone who was pitiful enough the people found it difficult to hate him; and so far, Metatron had delivered.

The problem was that he was starting to annoy him. He should better not forget who he owed his crown to.

Lucifer snapped his fingers, but the glass of wine he tried to materialize didn’t appear.

He frowned. Normally, he should have been able to do this quite easily. And it wasn’t the first time this week something like this had happened, either.

What was going on?

It was almost as if...

It had taken a lot of power to get rid of the Winchesters. Lucifer had had to tie his own magic to the success of his curse.

And it had worked. The Winchesters were gone.

All of them.

As long as they stayed away from the throne, he shouldn’t be the least bit inconvenienced.

Then why was his magic acting up? And Why now?

It was time to scry. He had to know.

A few minutes later, he knew there was something. Something in Lawrence...

Frustrated, he threw the map away and went to get a bowl. Mixing water and a few drops of his own blood, he started to chant.

And then the mixture showed him.

A young man was sitting at a table, reading a thick book. He was frowning while he was reading. At first, Lucifer couldn’t make out anything important about him. There were so many strays, these days.

But then his eyes wandered from the book to the clock on the wall and Lucifer hissed.

He remembered those yes.

He remembered them watching as the prince’s father exiled him from his kingdom.


	6. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is terribly short guys, but I'm working on my dissertation basically 24/7. Enjoy anyway!

“How freaking old is this family?“ Dean groaned. “I swear to God, my own ancestors were still swimming in the sea when they got the throne.”

“You’d probably be surprised” Crowley replied cryptically.

“Seriously, and there heraldic animals were a squirrel and a moose, in the beginning? Who’d choose that?”

“Speaking of choice, he’s more of a squirrel than a moose, right, Cassie?”

“I asked you not to call me Cassie.”

“Squirrel it is. I am glad you agree.”

Crowley snatched the book out of Dean’s hands.

“I was reading that!”

“No, you were starting at it and hoping it’d go away. There’s a difference. Time to answer some questions.”

Dean’s shoulders slumped. He’d done nothing but studying how to be a prince for three days now, and he had no idea if he’d even made progress.

“So. Origins of the Winchester name?”

He sighed. “There are many theories, but the most popular one is that the family decided to name themselves after their rule was established, “Winchester” meaning “triumph” in the old language of – “

“Alright, you can retail information correctly. That’s something.”

Dean snorted. “Are you kidding me?”

“Not at all. When one pretends, it is important to keep one’s story straight” Crowley said.

Dean’s eyes narrowed as he studied him. “Why do I have the feeling you speak from experience?”

“Probably because he does” Cas told him. “When we first started working together...”

“Let me guess, you looked for information and found none?”

“Exactly.”

“It is remarkable” Crowley drawled “how quickly you can forget I’m in the room when you talk to one another.”

Dean blushed (wait, why was he blushing?) and tore his gaze away from Cas. “Anything’s better than this freaking history lesson.”

“I’m afraid Prince Dean was already proficient in the history of the kingdom.”

“I heard the rumours too” Cas said, “But I don’t know if they were true.”

“You would if you would ever have bothered to approach them.”

“I was a thirteen-year-old boy, not a spy trying to find information for a resistance that wasn’t needed yet!”

“Hey” Dean said gently, “Don’t beat yourself up over it. You were just a kid.”

“So where the princes, and yet the people decided it was a good idea to – “

“Calm down, Fathers. It wasn’t the people who decided to rebel.”

Dean shifted in his seat. Every time he thought about the revolution for too long, he got this terrible feeling, and he could almost smell smoke...

“Dean?” Cas voice grounded him, and he took a few deep breaths.

Crowley was studying him again, that weird expression on his face he’d had when they’d found him in the Palace.

“The rebellion” he said slowly, “What do you remember about it? Was it...” he trailed off.

“A bloody inconvenience, that was what it was” Crowley stated decidedly. “One minute, I have my business and everything’s going well, the next the populace decide to stick it to the ruling class and all I can do is save my skin and my house – “

“Oh yes, you had it so bad” Dean deadpanned, “I’m sure all the people who died were happy you didn’t have to share their fate.”

Even Crowley was silent at that.

Eventually, Cas asked, “Do you think your family – “ he stopped. “My apologies. Gabriel always says I am too – “

“No, it’s fine.” Dean looked down at the table. “I know it sounds weird, but part of me was always convinced they’re still out there. Looking for me.”

“They might be” Cas said softly.

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, well. Easier to find them once we’ve got rid of the evil regime, right?”

Cas could only agree.

“Excellent to see how enthusiastic you are” Crowley said, “So how about you take a look at the family tree?”

Dean groaned.

**The new palace**

“Your magic isn’t working properly” Metatron complained, “The maid who served me was not being properly submissive.”

He grit his teeth. Try as he might, it took a bit more power than he’d liked to admit to make Metatron strong and imposing, and now that the elder Prince was somehow on his way to challenge the president, things were getting out of hand.

He hadn’t even been able to hone in on his location. Something needed to be done.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for yesterday, guys; I was in a pretty bad headspace. Turns out spending hours researching/writing about Nazis get you down eventually. Enjoy!

Neither Michael nor Cas were able to tell how Crowley had managed to procure horses. They had become a rare commodity ever since the rebellion.

They decided it was better not to ask.

“Why do you want me to learn riding again?”

“Haven’t you read the material I gave you? Prince Dean loved horses, ever since they put him on one when he was three.”

“Who does that to a toddler anyway” Michael muttered looking at the three animals. He’d never even been close to one before, but he’d heard they could sense when someone was nervous.

He was so screwed.

Cas squeezed his shoulder. “I’m sure it will be alright, Michael.”

He gave him a weak smile. “What about you? Do you know how to ride?”

“The Winchesters were very generous when it came to their servants. There were several horses for the use of all. I haven’t ridden in years, though.”

“Pathetic, both of you” Crowley declared, and if Michael hadn’t known better, he could have sworn there was actually something like amusement in his voice. He’d yet to see the guy smile.

“Also, by the way, from now on it will be better if we call you Dean, since that’s who you’ll play. Get used to it, Squirrel.”

With that, Crowley easily hopped on one of the horses and was off.

“Show off” Mi- Dean muttered. As much as he annoyed him on a regular basis, Crowley was right; he should be getting used to being addressed as Dean instead of Michael; and really, it had never been his real name in the first place. So why bother?

“Do you need help?” Cas asked.

Dean shrugged. “I’ll just try and figure it out on my own. You can step in when I inevitably embarrass myself.”

“You won’t.”

He wished he had Cas’ confidence as he stepped up to the horse. He gently reached out, and soon it moved its head to gently nuzzle his hand. He laughed.

Somehow this seemed –

Almost as in a trance, he got into the saddle.

“It seems like you – “ Cas began, but Dean had no time for this. Instead, he started riding.

A feeling he had never known before – no, that wasn’t true, in the old Palace, he could remember, there had been a faint trace of it, he knew – came over him. The steady rhythm of the animal beneath him and the world flying by.

It felt like coming home.

Another picture came back to him.

_Riding, he was riding, happy as he could be, laughing because of the new horse Dad had given him for his birthday, and it was a big boy horse, not a pony._

_“Wait for me!” a child called out behind him. “Dad, make him wait for me!”_

_“It’s his first time with his present. Give him some time.”_

This time, the picture stayed. It wasn’t enough to make him remember, but it was something, and he was panting along his horse when he finally came to himself at the side of a lake next to Cas and Crowley, both on horseback.

“That was quite the performance” Crowley said simply.

“Dean” Cas breathed, obviously not having any problem switching names either “You’re wonderful.”

Dean told himself that he wasn’t blushing, but he wasn’t entirely sure he succeeded.

“Well, gotta be careful when handling Impala, right?”

“Impala?” Cas asked.

“Prince Dean’s horse” he said simply. “It was given to him on his tenth birthday.”

“Correct” Crowley said. “You are learning after all.”

Cas squinted and tilted his head to the side. “I don’t remember reading that.”

“Ah, Feathers, there are more things between Heaven and earth...”

For some reason, Dean couldn’t help the impression that Crowley was keeping something from him. From them. But then again, it was probably nothing; he still felt pretty giddy from the ride. He patted the horse’s neck.

“So riding won’t be a problem” Crowley stated and Dena had the feeling he had already known that, even though it was impossible. “It’ll be fun how you act when it comes to etiquette.”

Dean looked at Cas with wide eyes, beseeching him for help.

He gave him another encouraging smile. “You’ll be fine.”

Somehow, he even believed him.

**The New Palace**

He was growing increasingly frustrated. No matter how much Lucifer tried, he couldn’t tell where the Prince was, nor could he sent out a spell to harm him. He didn’t understand. Any other human, he would have crushed long ago.  

The Winchesters hadn’t been difficult to kill off at all, come to think of it. Someone must be using a lot of power to simply shielded this one puny human.

Interesting, certainly, since this meant whoever protected him was most like a strong witch or wizard channelling their power almost exclusively for the purpose of looking after the Prince.

Why, Lucifer couldn’t fathom.

But he was going to find out, and he was going to tear him and the other wizard apart.

**Los Angeles**

“I dreamed about Dean tonight” Sam confided in him at breakfast.

Bobby took a deep breath. “Memories, you mean?”

Sam shook his head. “No. He was older. Way older. Like he must be now.”

Ah. Fourteen, when eighteen was still a long while off.

Bobby couldn’t even remember what he had been like at that age.

“How do you know it was Dean?”

“I just knew. He was out riding with two friends. Older guy, like you – “

“Thank you very much.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. And someone about Dean’s age. They were making heart eyes at one another.”

“Who was?”

“The young guy and Dean.”

“Sam...” he began carefully. Still being convinced that his brother was alive was one thing, dreaming up a life for him quite another.

Of course Bobby wanted the same thing. Of course he wanted to believe that Dean was out there, having fun with friends, that he hadn’t been trampled to death that night at the railway station because Bobby hadn’t been fast enough –

When he dreamed about Dean, he was having nightmares. The boy calling for him over and over, lost forever in that dark night because he’d been too weak to hold onto two children.

And yet he had to talk Sam out of the nice dreams.

“Sam, you don’t even know what Dean would look like – “

“Yeah, I do. He’s still got brunette hair and green eyes, and he’s a bit too thin. I think they didn’t feet him well enough, wherever he was being hidden.”

“Sam – “

“I know how Dean rides. You remember it too, right, Uncle Bobby? Dad always called it his “devil may care” attitude and Mom shouted at him because of that.”

It was true; Dean had been a natural in the saddle. John had had him on his first pony by the time he was three years old, and his face on his tenth birthday when he had seen Impala –

The horse was as gone as John and Mary, as the old life they had built together.

He swallowed.

Maybe allowing Sam his dreams wasn’t that bad. What could be the harm, after all? He was bright-eyed and happy this morning.

And Bobby would have done anything to make sure he stayed that way.

**Lawrence**

Crowley was not a business man. In fact, if you had asked Dean at that particular moment, his description would have been “Master of Torture.”

“No, you need to hold your fork like that –“

“Can’t I just say I forgot because i have been slamming it for eight years?”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “This is not about making Dean’s family believe you, remember? We might even tell them the truth; this is about the people thinking you are the real deal. Have you forgotten?”

“Oh right, you humanitarian, you just want to oust the evil one, I forgot.”

“Dean” Cas aid gently, “Like this. It’s not that hard – “

“Says the guy who was kitchen boy in the palace” he grumbled. “You probably could distinguish all of these in your sleep.”

Cas just smiled at him, and he felt a little bit better again.

After several hours of this, Crowley finally, finally left him alone. Dean leaned back and sighed.

“And he didn’t even let me eat anything”.

“Let me prepare something for you” Cas said. “I always enjoyed cooking.”

“Would you have gone on to be a cook in the palace? If they’d let you?”

HE shrugged. “I have never really wondered about the what ifs. Except for...” he trailed off and Dean remembered his and Crowley’s argument.

“Cas, look at me. You were a kid, just like they were, and probably terrified.”

“I was, but still – what if the Prince was alive and well? We wouldn’t have to do all of this.”

“True, but then we wouldn’t have met and that would be a tragedy right?” Dean asked, winking at him.

Cas blushed scarlet and Dean had to look away to hide his grin. At least he wasn’t the only one.


	8. Chapter 8

During the next few days, Dean did an admirable job. And not just with learning etiquette – while he loved complaining about it, he had soon figured out that it wasn’t as difficult as he had believed it would be. No, he was doing wonderful when it came to pretending that he wasn’t – that Cas wasn’t – that they –

He just was trying very much not to think about Cas too much. That was all.

Because Cas was smart, and kind, and generous, and was only here because he wanted to help his brother, and –

He forced himself to focus back on the book. Why Crowley had bought this, he had no idea. It was propaganda of the worst kind, like the “literature” Ramiel would bring to the orphanage again and again. It explained why everything the Winchesters had ever done had been nothing but a ploy against the people, and why Metatron was blessed with the knowledge and foresight he needed to bla bla bla. After a few more pages, Dean gave up and threw it against a wall.

“I have done that often enough.”

He hadn’t heard Crowley come in, and would admit the thought of him watching Dean reading out of the shadows was slightly disconcerting.

“Why keep it then?”

“Sometimes it’s useful to remind oneself of the mistakes one’s made.”

Until now Dean would have been ready to swear that Crowley would never admit a mistake.

“What kind, if I may ask?”

“You may, but I am not going to answer.”

“Why do I have the feeling you know more about any of this than you are letting on?”

“Because, Squirrel, it’s true. I have been here a while.”

Dean snorted. “Right, all fifty years of your existence. My bad.”

Crowley was silent. “Keep reading” was all he said before he left the room.

Dean tried bit stopped at an especially nasty passage where it was claimed the Winchesters had treated their servants abominably.

He’d rather ask Cas.

Because he wanted to know the truth, of course, not because he wanted to see him.

He found him in the stables, grooming the horses.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas, sorry to disturb you – “

“I assure you, it’s quite the opposite. “

Another one of his soft, warm smiles, and butterflies started to flutter around in Dean’s stomach. He swallowed.

“It’s just – Crowley gave me that book Metatron wrote himself – “

Cas grimaced. “Gabriel tried to read it a few years ago, “for fun” as he claimed. But not even he could laugh about it.”

He looked down at his hands, stroking the horse’s nose. “The Winchesters... they were nothing like they are presented in the book. The King and the Queen came down to the kitchen regularly, made sure no one was mistreated and if they were, Lord Singer would throw the perpetrator out personally. And the princes were not at all acting like “brats” as Metatron so nicely puts it. They played with the other children.”

“Did you ever – “

“No, no. You may already have noticed – my social skills are not the best.”

“I’m sure they would have been glad to get to know you.”

Cas’ eyes met his. Dean had no idea how long they stood there, staring at one another. “I know you’ll make a good Prince” Cas said suddenly, “Because he was very kind, too. Everyone said so.”

“Trust me, Cas, there’s nothing about me that’s kind.”

“Yes” he argued, “There is.”

Dean shook his head. “You and Crowley... that’s a lot of faith to have in one guy, I’m just saying.”

“Then I have enough for you, too.”

He had no idea why. He wasn’t particularly smart, or strong, or good – hell, he’d regularly snuck out of the orphanage at night to stale food for him and the other kids. He knew nothing of his past, and had precious little to look forward to in the future, if their crazy plan didn’t work out, and why should it? No matter how much he learned, he was no prince.

Gentle finger lifted his chin up.

“Dean” Cas said quietly. “You’re so much more than you think. You can do this. And once peace is brought to the kingdom, you will remember who you are. I just know it.”

Where did he take this belief, this faith in something? His life must have been hard too, after the rebellion, and yet here he was –

And Dean was helplessly drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

He all but fled.

* * *

 

Cas knew he wasn’t good at social interactions. Gabriel had never let him forget it. But even so, he had no idea what had just happened. He and Dean had been talking and then –

What had he said or done that had caused him to flee? Cas couldn’t say.

“You can’t help me either, can you?” he asked one of the horses. “I have never seen someone who has so bright a soul. Sometimes I think I can see it shining through his eyes...”

The horse neighed. “I know, I know. I shouldn’t get too attached. After all, so many things could go wrong. But Dean...”

Yes, Dean.

Dean was an enigma, and Cas couldn’t help but try to solve it.

Even though he knew he shouldn’t.

**The New Palace**

“Lucifer” Metatron wined and he suppressed the desire to smite him for the three hundredth time this week. His magic had continued to deplete, and he had resorted to spies who had to find the young man he had described to them as best as he could.

 “Yes, President?”

“The people don’t take my writing seriously.”

His writing Oh God, Lucifer was sick and tired of hearing about his writing. The idiot thought he had talent, that he was a scribe given to the people by God himself, and that they just had to realize what had been dropped into their midst. It was not enough that Lucifer had given him power; oh no, he wanted love and admiration, without being capable of seeing that he would never be worthy of either.

Even when he had been at his strongest point, Lucifer couldn’t have turned his pathetic bnooks into anything more than they were.

“I am sure they will see reason eventually.”

“Can’t you do anything about it?”

“The tastes of the populace are fickle, President. Nothing I can do to change them.”

It wasn’t really a good excuse, but Metatron bought it.

If only he’d picked a different substitute –

The word suddenly made a thought pop into his head.

He couldn’t find the prince, and so he wouldn’t curse him, that was true.

But what if he tried to curse someone who was close to him? Throw the spell in the ether and wait for it to take effect?

That could work.

He grinned despite Metatron’s raving.

Los Angeles

“I’m worried about him Rufus, I won’t deny that.”

“Prince Sam is doing very well in his classes” the old tutor told him. “But he did appear to be distracted today.”

“That’s because of a dream he had... of his brother” Bobby said quietly.

“Ah.”

“I am just afraid that, instead of coming to terms with his family being gone, he will fixate on finding Dean.”

“It can’t be easy. Everything he’s seen... We should be thankful he was so little when everything happened. He doesn’t remember.”

Rufus had not been teaching the princes before the rebellion, but both John and Mary had agreed that he should once they got a little older. Bobby had been overjoyed when he’d learned the scholar had survived that night.

“Yes. I seriously hope he never does.”

Bobby sometimes still woke up from nightmares of carrying Mary’s corpse, or seeing John’s head on a spike. He had loved all of the Winchesters deeply, and it had been his fault that –

If only he’d listened to Crowley sooner. But he’d always suspected the guy of using the royal family to further his means. He should have ended Lucifer, as the other man had told him, but instead he’d gone to John, who wouldn’t hear of anyone being executed in his kingdom, and that had been the end of that.

If he ever had the chance, he would kill Lucifer with his bare hands.

“I will admit that sometimes his belief that his brother is still alive gets in the way of his learning” Rufus said eventually. “A few weeks ago, he tried to get out of his lesson by stating that he doesn’t need to know “all that stuff” because Dean is going to be king, not him.”

“At this point it’s unlikely anyone will be king” Bobby sighed.

“I wouldn’t say that” Rufus said slowly. “There have been no reports out of Lawrence. Apparently the people are rather discontented.”

“I know they were eight years ago” Bobby said bitterly.

“That wasn’t the people.”

“I know. It just doesn’t make it any easier.”

**The New Palace**

Close to midnight. Time for the spell.

Lucifer smiled.

Things were going to get a little complicated for Prince Dean.


	9. Interlude 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, life has been a bit crazy.

Dean had been trying to figure out how to face Casa t dinner the whole afternoon and had come up with nothing. He hadn’t meant to run away in the stables, it had just... happened. And now he had to live with it.

Why did he have to crush on one of the conmen who were trying to teach him how to be a rebel leader in the first place?

And how had it even come to this. That might have been the better question.

To be honest, he had no idea why he was even doing... anything at this point. All he knew was that, for the first time in the old Palace, he had felt like he belonged somewhere. And then Cas and Crowley had offered him a chance to cling to that.

Plus, he had already wanted to hang out with Cas...

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Alright, Dean: you are not falling for him. He’s just being nice because he needs to get his brother out of hail, remember that.”

Only afterwards did he realize that he had had no problem at all addressing himself as Dean, despite living as Michael for eight years.

Weird.

When he entered the dining room, Cas was already sitting at the table, smiling art him.

So apparently pretending nothing had happened it was. Fine by Dean.

Crowley had assured they had a good dinner, as always. Dean had never eaten as well as he did here, although he wasn’t sure he wanted to know how Crowley procured their meals.

“You’re getting better with the cutlery” Crowley observed, “Good to know.”

Dean said nothing.

“Come on, you can’t still be angry because of that – let’s call it a book from Metatron.”

“Why does he write anyway? Can’t he make someone else do it for him?”

“Of course he can, he just harbours the disillusion that he has talent as a writer. Sad, right?”

“How ddi Lucifer ever choose him anyway?”

“He needed someone who was scared of him and stupid enough to think he deserved to lead the people.”

Dean shook his head. “But even he must realize how stupid that is.”

“Maybe he does. Maybe he’s been regretting taking the role. You know, according to my informants, he was only a small scribe in the royal library before this happened. Whatever, it won’t help him.”

“Did you read anything else?” Cas asked. “I normally finds it helps.”

Dean nodded and they talked of different things.

That evening, when Cas told him goodnight, he let his hand rest on Dean’s arm. HE could feel his warmth seeping through his shirt.

He watched him go to his room, his heart beating erratically.

Despite his best intentions, he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

The last thing he expected was to wake up at midnight to see Cas with a murderous expression and a knife in his hands, standing over him.

He was too shocked to even react as the knife came down.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back on track, my friends. Enjoy!

He was asleep. Of that Cas was sure.

At least he was certain that part of him was asleep, because that part of him was wondering why his body was moving.

He was quietly stalking through Crowley’s mansion without any proper reason. He really should wake up and get back to bed.

At first, he wasn’t scared. It was even sort of relaxing. His body might have been doing things his will hadn’t ordered, but he didn’t mind.

He lost some time. When he became aware again, he was getting a knife out of a kitchen drawer.

And suddenly everything changed.

Why was he holding a knife? Why was he walking towards – towards Dean’s –

Kill him.

No.

Kill him.

Cas had no idea where the voice was coming from, but he didn’t want to obey. He tried to stop himself, desperately tried to stop himself, but couldn’t –

He was standing over Dean, raising the knife –

Dean, Dean, wake up, please –

Kill him. I order you to kill him.

Dean woke up. Thank God. But he froze as the knife came towards him –

No! No!

Kill him.

The door burst into pieces as Crowley blazed in.

“What in – Manete!”

The knife stopped.

Dean scrambled out of bed. “What the Hell – Crowley, you can...”

“Yes” was all he answered as he studied Cas, who was still trying to fight against whatever had a hold on him, although he was careful lest break Crowley’s binding.

“You could have mentioned that!”

“I was waiting for the right moment.”

“You found it, I’d say” Dean said, walking up to Cas.

“I wouldn’t do that, Squirrel. He’s definitely under a spell, and he’s been ordered to – “

Cas broke free from Crowley’s hold against his will – it must have been the spell – and kneed the wizard – part of him had always suspected there was more to him than met the eye – in the stomach before advancing towards Dean again.

“Cas – “ he said, moving away, Cas’ movements having grown clumsy and slow because he was struggling against the spell. “Cas, please. I know you don’t want to do this, and I know you’re in there!”

“Squirrel” Crowley forced out, trying to catch his breath to chant, “He’s a rabid dog at this point – “

“No, he’s not. Look, Cas, I’ve not had the easiest life, okay? And precious few people have ever been really kind to me. You were one of them. I know you can fight this. Please, Cas.”

Against all odds, he managed to drop the knife.

The next moment, Crowley decided that spells could only do so much and knocked him out.

* * *

 

When he woke up, he was free of the spell. His body was his own again.

Thank God.

“Back with us, I see?”

He opened his eyes to see Crowley.

“Your boyfriend wanted to stay, but I told him it was too dangerous until we knew for sure.”

“Not my boyfriend” he mumbled.

Crowley shook his head. “Idiots, both of you, but you are what I have to work with, so...”

“You never told us you were a wizard” he pointed out, sitting up.

“You didn’t need to know yet.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Crowley turned around. “Dean, we decided we should keep you two separate for a while...”

“No, you told me. Cas, are you okay?”

Crowley threw his hands up in the air. “Helpless. You’ll get yourself killed before we even come close to Lucifer.”

“Before you continue insulting me, can we have some explanations, because frankly I am feeling entitled to them.”

Crowley huffed. “Fine. Cas, can you walk? I need a drink.”

And so they ended up in the dining room, Crowley having a large glass of what he called “Craig.”

“I assume you have questions?”

“Yes. First of all, what happened to Cas?”

Cas reached out and gently touched Dean’s arm. “I’m alright, really. Please don’t agitate yourself.”

“Don’t – Cas, that look in your eyes – that wasn’t you.”

“No it wasn’t. It was Lucifer” Crowley explained.

“How?”

“It’s dark magic. Nasty stuff. Basically, if you can’t harm your intended target, you try and hit someone close to them so they will do your dirty work. It’s so old and quite frankly reviled among our kind I never imagined even Lucifer would stoop so low.” He put his glass down on the table more forcefully than he needed to. “Another mistake” he snarled.

“Crowley...” Cas began slowly, “I think it’s time to tell us – “

“I know” he sighed. “I never wanted to be the royal wizard. I never wanted anything official to do with the throne, period. It’s much easier to pull the strings behind everyone else.”

“And then Lucifer moved in” Dean added.

Crowley nodded. “Yes. At first, I didn’t think much about him – every wizard is a little power hungry, one way or another, and most of the time, it just makes them better practitioners. But Lucifer... As soon as I realized he actually wanted to take over, I alerted Lord Singer. He’d never really given up his attempts to persuade me to take up the position, and he believed me instantly. Lucifer was exiled, and I thought things would return to normal. And then...” he trailed off.

“You really cared for the royal family” Dean said.

“And guess when I found out. Standing in front of King John’s decapitated corpse. These Winchesters... they have a way to worm themselves under one’s skin.”

“I know” Cas said, glancing at Dean. He snorted.

“Come on, I’m not a real Winchester. Crowley – just one last question. “Why did you stay here, then? You’re a wizard. You could go anywhere I wanted.”

“I don’t like to leave my mistakes lying around. I’ve always been careful to shield myself from Lucifer. When one works against someone, it’s best done in their vicinity. Makes things easier”.

They fell silent.

“What now?” Cas finally asked.

“We can’t wait anymore. Dean will have to step up to the challenge. We need to get him to Los Angeles as soon as possible.”

Dean swallowed. “But all the people I have to convince that I am...”

Cas took his hand. “You will, Dean. I know you will.” He turned to look at Crowley. “Why do I have the feeling you’re still not telling us everything?”

He shrugged. “It’s your choice whether to believe that or not.”

Dean looked at him. Yes, he had lied to tell – or at least not told them everything they needed to know; but he had also just now saved both him and Cas, and he had given Dean a chance to change the world.

“Alright, guess we’ll go to Los Angeles first thing in the morning.”

Cas still hadn’t let go of his hand, and he said nothing against it when Dean intertwined their fingers.

**The New Palace**

Lucifer woke up feeling groggy. Why was he on the floor? He’d been performing the spell, he’d been controlling whoever was closest to the Prince, he had –

Somewhere along the line, he had walked right into a wall.

Until now, it had been a possibility that the very part of the spell that made him weaker once the prince resurfaced was also what was keeping him from finding out where he was.

No more. No, it was perfectly clear that this was another wizard, trying to encroach on his territory.

But who, and why? He knew of no other wizards in the kingdom, at least none strong enough to work magic like this. And why should he help the royal family? The Winchesters were disposed, the king and the queen killed by their own people.

Lucifer could only conclude that the last remaining wizard was a kind of madman.

There was after all only one reason for a wizard to exist, and that was to gather all the power he could, not to help the powerless.

He would teach this wizard.

By ripping them apart with his bare hands.

**Lawrence**

Dean slept fitfully after all of that, as he had expected.

He wasn’t angry at Crowley. After everything he’d seen happening at the orphanage, he was not going to blame anyone for not wanting to stick his neck out. And Crowley, whether he realized it or not, had done his penance.

And Dean didn’t mean what he was doing now; no, he meant the eight years of regret he’d been able to read in the man’s eyes tonight.

And Cas had taken his hand.

He really shouldn’t have been reading more into this, but he couldn’t help himself. Strangely, it almost seemed more important than the fact that he’d almost died tonight.

Because why should he have cared? If he had died, he wouldn’t have known it anyway; and since he hadn’t, there was no point in dwelling on it.

Crowley had repaired his door with a wave of his hand a few mumbled words, but he still heard someone moving behind it.

He jumped out of bed.

When he wrenched the door open, determined to fight, he found Cas, looking miserable.

“Cas?”

“I just... I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“So you’ve been camping outside my room?”

He looked away. “Better than me being in the room with you.”

“Cas, that wasn’t you.” Dean reached out and took his hand. “Come on; we all need to rest.”

He didn’t stop to think what he was doing, and so he and Cas ended up sharing a bed.

Nice going there Dean, being determined not to get too close and all, he told himself, but then Cas scooted closer and laid his head on Dean’s shoulder, relaxing, and most coherent thought went out the window.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“For what?”

“You broke the spell. It wasn’t Crowley, or me. You broke it.”

He chuckled. “If you knew me better, you’d realize I’m ninety percent crap. That was all you.”

“No” Cas breathed against his neck and Dean was glad they were lying in the dark and he couldn’t see him blushing. “You are so much more. You are good, and kind, and smart. If I hadn’t met you... My brother’s in jail. We’re about to meet the royal family. And then there’s the whole thing with Crowley. If you weren’t there... I’d probably go insane.”

“With everything that’s been happening, are you sure we aren’t already?”

Cas chuckled. “Maybe. But in that case, I am glad to be insane with you.”

“Me too” he forced out through the lump in his throat.

And then, in the dark of the night, their lips found each other.   


	11. Chapter 11

**Lawrence**

It was a good thing Wizards didn’t need much sleep; and so, long after he’d heard Cas tramping up and Dean’s corridor like a wounded puppy and the young man letting him in as a matter of course, Crowley was pouring over his books.

If Lucifer had been ready to use the attack dog spell, it meant he was also ready to use even darker magic. Crowley had kept away from these spells for a very good reason. He’d never trusted himself to resist the temptation.

Now, though? His hatred for Lucifer would keep him safe. He wasn’t in the least bit curious about whatever he considered helpful. And alright, maybe he was a little angry at Cas having been under a spell. His mother had always said he had an emotional streak, in the good old days.

When he found the curse, he was happier than ever that he had listened to his instincts and kept... certain things from the two young love birds.

True, he was playing a dangerous game.

But Crowley was used to that. It’s what he had been doing for a long time.

**The New Palace**

Lucifer’s powers were still waning, the spell hadn’t worked, and he hadn’t managed to find the other wizard. Quite in the contrary, all he had learned was that, whoever they were, they were powerful and skilled.

And obviously after his blood, if they were protecting the Winchesters.

There was, of course, always one last resort he could count on.

But it was also very dangerous and could kill him, if he wasn’t too careful.

On the other hand, he would be close to death anyway if he ever grew desperate enough to try it, since he must be in close proximity with the prince and whoever was protecting him at the time.

And even then, He would win, because he always did.

**Lawrence**

“Wakey, wakey, Squirrel and Feathers.”

Dean groaned and rolled away from the annoying voice, but was kept from it by Cas, who’d come to spoon him during the night.

“Now come on we have a government to throw over. We can’t afford to lie in bed all day.”

Next thing he knew, both he and Cas were rolling at the foot of the bed.

“Just because we are aware you’re a wizard now you don’t get to do that” he complained while Cas was still catching his bearings.

“I say what I get to do and how I get to do it, thank you very much. Now come on.”

They got up, both blushing furiously.

“Calm down boys, nothing I haven’t seen before.” With that; Crowley swept out of the room.

Dean sighed. “Sorry about that.”

“Not your fault” Cas said gently. For a moment, they just stood there, staring at one another; then he leaned forward and kissed Dean softly on the lips. He responded in kind, and until Crowley knocked on the door calling out “I know exactly what you are doing and it’s not exactly princely behaviour” they stayed intertwined, allowing the world to fade away.

Crowley had at least procured them a decent breakfast.

“So what now? Travel through magic? And answer first please before you beam me anywhere” Dean warned him.

“I wish I could, darling, but sadly, Lucifer certainly has found ways to make this form of transportation incredibly dangerous. No, we’ll have to go by train, the good old way.”

Maybe it was the good old way for Crowley, but Dean had never approached a train without being automatically nervous. Cas gently touched his hand under the table. He smiled at him.

“So when do we start?”

“As soon as possible. I’ll feel much better once we get all of this under way. Strange magic in my own home makes me nervous.”

“Trust me, you weren’t the only nervous one” Cas said, shuddering.

“Hey” Dean reminded him, “it all worked out.”

“Nothing’s worked out yet” Crowley stated, “you two better get packing.”

**Los Angeles**

Bobby should have known better than to go through Metatron’s latest work in the hopes of finding anything that corroborated that the people were unhappy under his rule. The style brought him a headache within minutes, and the propaganda only reminded him of all they had lost.

There had been times when he had wished he had died that night alongside Mary and John. There had been times when he had been tempted to put an end to the memories playing over and over again in his head, but Sam had always put a stop to that. He couldn’t leave Sam alone in this hostile world; he had to take the place of the parents he had lost, and the brother he’d –

He was doing it now too, he realized, acting as if Dean was different because Dean was still alive.

For years, he had been certain he was dead, but now, because Sam kept having these weird dreams...

If this went any further, he would have to look for a specialist, someone who could help him. Sam wasn’t just any small boy, no matter how much Bobby wished he was. As the heir to the throne, he had responsibilities to the country and its people, no matter what they had done to them. Bobby would help him as well as he could, his whole life long, but eventually, Sam would have to face the facts.

Dean was never coming back to them.

Bobby looked at the passage he had been reading.

_Far, far better that the tyranny of the tyrannous tyrants was destroyed by the heroic people, for the heir to the throne, damned Dean, was as vile a creature as had ever –_

Bobby threw the book into the fire.

**Lawrence**

No one paid attention to them as they walked down the streets Dean had cine to know only a short time before. Obviously he wasn’t trying to act like a prince; that would be used later, when he actually met the royal family; but for now, it was safer to appear exactly as he was – a rather underfed, uninteresting orphan no one would wish to talk to.

Well. Almost no one. Now and then, his and Cas’ arms brushed, and his friend smiled at him every time. Crowley ignored their displays of affection.

But was that what it was? Were they even friends? Sure, they had kissed, but Cas had a motive for all of this – he needed to help his brother. And who was Dean to assume someone like Cas would care about someone like him? He’d sounded like he did last night, and yet... that might only have been because he’d felt guilty. He had tried to kill Dean after all, albeit only because of a spell.

Suddenly, he realized he’d overlooked something.

“How did Lucifer even know anyone was after him? Why did he send the spell towards Cas?”

Crowley sighed, as if he’d expected the question. “Magic is complicated. The fact that someone’s out there, fighting against him, planning to go near the throne, might have offset a keychain reaction. I’m not saying it makes sense; I’m saying that’s how it is.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. But, for better or worse, he had decided to trust Crowley, and it was a bit too much to ask of him to fight against two wizards at once, even with Cas at his side.

“Alright. But then  won’t he be able to tell we’re moving?”

Crowley looked at him and for the first time that morning he realized he looked much too tired for someone who’d just got up. “No, because I am using all my powers to shield every single one of us, are all your questions answered now?”

Dean decided it was best to keep silent.

At least until they reached the train station.

He didn’t know why, but his usual anxiety around trains suddenly skyrocketed, his heart started beating erratically, he gasped for air and –

Cas’ hand in his, drawing him close. “It’s alright Dean, i’m here.”

He took a few deep breaths.

“We don’t have time for this!” Crowley hissed. “Squirrel, close your eyes if you must, but hurry!”

Dean reminded himself that Crowley was probably extending far more magic than he could afford at the moment.

Soon enough, they were sitting in a train heading towards Los Angeles.

“Crowley? You doing alright?”

He nodded. “IT is easier when we’re moving faster. Not that much power concentrated on single spots.”

“Good to know. How long will we have to travel, anyway?”

“We should be in Los Angeles within twenty-four hours” Cas said.

Dean took a deep breath.

So far, so good.

But he’d learned in the orphanage that a long could go wrong within a single day.


	12. Chapter 12

**The New Palace**

The time to play nice was over. Lucifer could feel his powers weakening.

Fine, then. No spells or curses.

There were other ways.

Calling demons had always come naturally to him, from the very first time he’d ever used magic. Of course this came with a prize. They were his servants and his masters, and he had to be careful not to be dragged into Hell.

He was confident he never would be.

The ritual was a simple one.

Soon, he sent them after the prince and anyone who dared to shield him, certain that this would finally end his problems.

**On the way to LA**

Crowley was indeed doing better now that they were moving faster and faster towards Los Angeles. Weirdly, this seemed to worry him.

“Might be Lucifer’s trying something” he explained. “God knows what he’s ready to do.”

“I think he’s already shown us that” Dean said, thinking of Cas and the knife and the darkness of his room.

“I wish I could say the same, Squirrel, but I have seen things you wouldn’t believe.”

“And yet you are here with us” Cas observed softly.

Crowley shrugged. “I was doomed the second I decided to do something good for once. Should have known what I was getting myself into.”

“So rebelling against the current leader is decent?”

“When the leader happens to be a childish tyrant tending towards rants in written form about the former royal family and how he is doing a much better job and people are suffering because of it, then yes. Haven’t all these years in the orphanage taught you anything? “

“Leading a rebellion wasn’t on the schedule.”

“How neglectful. You’ll have to change that once you’re in charge.”

“You mean once I’ve made sure King Sam is in charge – or Lord Singer as Lord Protector, since he’s not of age yet.”

“Yes, of course” Crowley quickly said, apparently recollecting himself. “As long as the Winchesters are back in charge.”

“You’d make a good king though” Cas told Dean, beaming. He could only shake his head while smiling at him.

“You two are going to give me caries.”

“Shut up Crowley” he mumbled, looking away, but Cas took his hand, and everything was alright again.

And then the demons attacked.

They certainly hadn’t flown past their carriage; Dean was pretty sure they couldn’t have missed that; but suddenly, there was an explosion up front, and their carriage, the last one of the train, was slowly rolling to a stop.

“God damnit, they must have blown us off the freaking train” Crowley cursed. “Just when I thought Lucifer can’t sink any lower, he sends demons.”

“Actual demons?” Dean asked as they raced down the rows of (thankfully otherwise empty) seats. “What the hell? Doesn’t that doom his soul?”

“I’m sure he’s found a way to keep alive. Here’s a reason wizards used to be famous for searching for the elixir of life, you know.”

“How can we stop them?” asked Cas. “Magic?”

“Sadly, no. Holy water would be ideal, but I don’t think – “

Cas reached into a pocket of his trench coat and pulled out a rosary. “This is all we’ve left from our mother... would this be considered enough to bless water?”

“Yes, but we need – “

“There’s a small lake about a quarter mile away, I saw it through the windows” Dean panted.

“Alright. I might be able to keep them off with magic for a few minutes, but after that... Here” Crowley snapped his fingers and two bowls appeared in their hands. “Just put the rosary in the water and say a quick prayer, usually that’s enough.”

“We better hurry” Cas said, taking Dean’s hand.

And then they ran.

They could hear Crowley performing spells behind them, hopefully slowing the demons down; but all they could do was focus on getting to the lake.

“Alright, gimme – “ Dan all but wrenched the rosary out of Cas’ hand – he would make sure to apologize later, but at the moment, he was the best qualified to act. They had been forced to pray every evening at the orphanage, and the words flowed easily from his lips.

“That was so fast, I couldn’t even make out – “ Cas began but Dean shook his head.

“Try praying while you’re shivering and know that you’ll only be allowed to go to bed once you’ve finished.”

They hastened back to the train. Crowley had managed to keep the demons at bay, but it was clear the magic was taking a strain on him.

They threw the holy water at the three demons at once.

What followed was a sight Dean never wished to behold again. They writhed and screamed in agony as they dissolved.

Once they were gone, Crowley slumped against the train. “Of all the dumb things I have done in the last eight years, this must be the dumbest.”

“Come on, we’re still alive” Dean said, handing Cas his rosary. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright.”

“Crowley, can you walk?”

“I have to” he said, getting up. “When you’re busy making heart eyes at one another... We’ll need a few days on the road now.”

He then explained that he wouldn’t be able to help them much with magic, since it would take a while to get his powers back on track. Right now he was only able to shield them once again.

“Guess we’ll walk” Dean decided, his heart light despite everything. “And really, shielding us is quite enough. What about other demons though?”

“He won’t be able to send any more. The place they come from...” Crowley actually shuddered. “Demons are born out of the Darkness, of an evil place. Most wizards would never dare to play around with it. The Darkness is bound to be furious; Lucifer will be busy trying to quieten its anger.”

“Any chance it could take care of him for us?”

Crowley sighed. “I would say yes, only this is Lucifer we are talking about. I wouldn’t be surprised if he managed to wriggle himself out of this once again.”

“Hey, but we three have just proven what we can take on together. Let’s see if he has anything that can compete with that.”

Dean laughed. Perhaps he was acting a bit crazy. But they had already fought demons after all, what else could possibly have scared him at that moment?

The New Palace

The demons hadn’t returned. It had been hours, and the demons hadn’t returned.

Lucifer could feel the Darkness they had come from demanding answers, payment, a piece of his soul for what it couldn’t have back.

He closed his eyes as he allowed it to touch his mind, to communicate his plans.

The souls of the prince and the wizard who helped him; he would gladly give those to the Darkness in exchange for his own.

The Darkness rejoiced. He wasn’t surprised. There was pleasure in ripping good souls apart, souls that had never been meant for this kind of punishment.

True, in order to get the souls he would have to use his last resort. He would have to allow them to come to him.

And yet there was something of a plus there, too. Once he had killed the heir to the throne, no one would ever dare come after him again.

He just had to wait.  

**On the way to LA**

“I meant it, before” Dean said quietly to Cas as they walked through the woods, Crowley leading the way. “I am sorry I just tore something your mother left you out of your hands.”

He felt the need to apologize again and again because he could imagine how he would have clung to anything that reminded him of his past.

As it was, all he had were questions and the knowledge that no one had come for him in eight long years.

“I know, Dean. I told you, it’s no...” Cas sighed. “Our quarters burned down that night along with a wing of the palace. It was all we could save. Mother held it in her hands when she died last year...”

“I’m sorry, Cas.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for” he said firmly, “And I will repeat that as often as I have to. We saved us, remember?”

Dean grinned. “Hell yeah we did. We’re not a bad team.”

“Not at all” Cas agreed as he took his hand.

Dean smiled at him.

Maybe they could have a future after all, once this was over and dealt with.

**Los Angeles**

“Uncle Bobby” Sam said one morning at breakfast, “I had a dream. Dean’s coming. He’ll be here in a few days.”

Bobby looked up, immediately alarmed. Sam had often talked about his brother, but never with such certainty in his voice.

“You can’t know that, boy.”

“Yes, I can. They’re on their way.”

And Sam went back to his breakfast without explaining who they were or what they wanted.

Bobby swallowed. Maybe he would have to look for experts sooner than he’d thought.


	13. Chapter 13

**Los Angeles**

“Visions?“ Bobby asked. I’m worried out of my mind, and you tell me Sam has visions?”

“There have been several psychics in the Winchester family, as you well know” Rufus said.

“Yes, but the power has been dormant for generations!”

“Something must have woken it.”

“Next thing you’ll tell me is that Dean is actually coming back” Bobby grumbled, even though he couldn’t fight the small sliver of hope he felt at –

Rufus laid his hand on his arm. “Lord Singer – Bobby. Don’t. Sam may see things – the visions may be true. But if they are, what does he see? Someone he thinks is Prince Dean. He is fourteen, and he was six when his brother was lost. Of course he’d latch onto the easy solution.”

“Of course” Bobby repeated, telling himself that he was a fool. He turned away so Rufus wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes. “So someone Sam thinks is Dean could be on the way here. Do you think that’s what triggered the power, if that’s what it is?”

Rufus shook his head. “No. Normally, I’d expect someone to have contacted Sam, a magic user...”

“Wonderful. Just what we need. Wizards.”

Bobby remembered Crowley well. If only he’d agreed to be royal wizard... He’d had a bad feeling about Lucifer from the start. But he’d done nothing, had accepted Crowley’s denial of his request and here they were, Sam having visions if not going insane, which was always an option.

At least that’s what Bobby felt like.

“So what are we supposed to do?”

Rufus shrugged. “We can only wait. Sam doesn’t foresee any danger coming from this stranger, whoever he may be.”

Yes. Whoever he may be. Bobby had to take that thought and engrave it onto his heart. The man who was coming to see them was not Dean. Dean had died years ago.

Bobby would have to look out for his nephew, like he had sworn he always would.

**On the way to LA**

“Is there anything else than trees around here?” Dean asked, exasperated.

“It’s a short cut” Crowley said, “And we should stay away from cities anyway. God knows how many spies Lucifer has.”

“Probably more than enough, because that’s just what we need” Dean complained.

“I am sure we’ll rest soon” Cas said.

“I’m not talking about being tired, I’m talking about this whole goddamn situation the first place.”

“You agreed to play the prince” Crowley observed without turning around.

“Doesn’t mean I agreed to being your chance at redemption” Dean answered. Crowley apparently didn’t see it fit to answer.

Quite frankly, it was probably for the best.

Quite unexpectedly, they came across a small house in the woods.

“Please tell me no witch lives here” Dean begged. Crowley shook his head.

“I would be able to sense their magic.”

“Alright – “

“Can I help you?”

Dean could only stare at the redhead who had opened the door and all but jumped out of the house in one quick motion, beaming at them.

Despite that, he couldn’t help but think that she was nervous. Maybe it was the way she kept glancing between the three of them.

He put on a smile to reassure her. “Yeah, we’ve been in a kind of fight... Pretty sure it’s all good now, though. I’m Dean, this is Cas, and this is Crowley.”

She nodded. “Charlie.”

“You’re a healer aren’t you” Crowley suddenly announced. “With all those herbs in your – “

“Crowley!” Dean hissed when she took a step back, clearly freaked out. “Sorry. He’s a wizard.”

Her eyes widened. “A real wizard? A good one?”

“Jury’s still out” Dean said, earning a glare from Crowley, “But signs point to _yes_ at the moment.”

She nodded. “Cool!”

And then they were ushered in.

“I’m sorry I can’t offer you more” she told them over their frugal dinner, “but Metatron is not too keen on natural healers.”

“That’s because Lucifer isn’t” Crowley explained lightly. “You use the power of nature for good. The magic he has sworn to is much darker.”

She frowned. “You know a lot about this.”

“He does” Dean hastened to say, “It’s like a hobby for him – “

“Come on guys, I’ve not more or less been in hiding for the last three years without learning a little something about something. Are you planning on” she lowered her voice “going against Metatron and Lucifer? There have been rumours for quite some time.”

“As a matter of fact” Crowley said, “These rumours are unsubstantiated and you should contradict them whatever chance you have. Especially if you hear anything concerning the lost prince.”

Her eyes sparkled, proving that she had understood. “Sure thing.”

“Here” Cas said quietly to Dean, “I’m not hungry anymore. You can have the rest.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to starve yourself...”

“You two are adorable” Charlie said. “How long have you been dating?”

Dean started to cough. Cas, instead of answering, patted his back.

“It’s alright. You don’t ahve to be shy. MY girlfriend lives in town; she comes to see me as often as she can.”

“Do the people treat you alright?” Dean asked once he had recovered to change the topic.

She nodded. “Despite what our dear leader says, I’m still needed. And many of them have known me since I was a child. They know I’m no danger.”

“Apart from when you make Dean choke...” Crowley said and Dean did his best to ignore him.

Meeting Charlie was a godsend, really. Not only did they get food out of it, but a place to sleep as well.

Although when Dean woke up in the night, Cas close enough next to him that he could feel his body heat, Crowley was standing at the window, just staring outside.

He thought about saying something, then went back to sleep. God knew what the wizard was up to.

The next day they said goodbye to Charlie; she surprised them all with hugs – Crowley seemed especially shocked – and wished them luck. “Call me up if you ever find yourself in need of a healer. We need to stick together in these times.”

“We do indeed” Cas told her.

“Well, Crowley?” Dean said after they had been tramping for over an hour without the wizard saying a thing, “Gotten over your shock at human contact?”

“There is a reason I stayed away from humans” Crowley said.

“We’re not so bad, I promise” Dean said lightly. He didn’t want to snap at Crowley like he had done yesterday, even though he felt miserable.

It was just that... with Charlie, Dean had been reminded what it was like, having to duck in order not to be hit. She was hiding because of her profession; he’d done his outmost to stay below anyone’s notice the first few years in the orphanage because Ramiel was a bastard if he wanted to be.

The people deserved better than this. Dean had known poor people who had still given them donations, people who had just been swept up in the rebellion when everything had been going too fast to make any sort of sense, and now they were paying for it.

Not that he had forgotten that the royal family had suffered too; but they needed to heal a whole country if they even wanted to have a chance. He sighed.

“Cas, do you think Charlie will ever be able to practice openly again?”

“I don’t think so. I know it.”

He intertwined his fingers with Cas and instantly felt better.


	14. Chapter 14

**On the way to LA**

In the end, their voyage to Los Angeles was uneventful. Now and then they had to steal food, but Dean was only too used to that, Crowley pretty much acted as if he had done nothing else in his life, and even Cas was surprisingly good at it.

“Kitchen boy experience?” Dean asked him one evening, smirking.

Cas stayed serious. “I would never have stolen anything from the Winchesters. They gave us plenty to eat – “

“It was just a joke, Cas “he said softly. “I didn’t mean to – “

“No, I know, it’s... I could have prevented all of this, you know. If the real heir to the throne were alive and safe...”

“Cas, you were a kid. Barely older than he was. You did what you had to do, you got them to relative safety.”

“I should have shown them better ways to sneak out. We could have found quarters among the sympathizers...”

“Cas...” Dean took his hand. “I’ve played that self blame game before, and it never ends well. We just have to deal with what happened, and do our best to fix it. Even if our best bet are an orphan with a screwed memory, the kitchen personal and our personal kind-of nice wizard who did nothing when shit hit the fan before.”

Cas laughed. Then, he drew Dean close and kissed him. He briefly thought of Crowley – he’d said he was going to “check things out” and had disappeared a while ago – but then, they weren’t exactly subtle. He knew pretty well what was going on.

As he kissed back, he couldn’t help but think of the future. If they somehow managed to save the country and get Prince Sam installed on the throne, what then? Would Cas want to stay with him? Would Dean get to stay with Cas? What would the royal family say, considering he was an imposter who had to at least make sure everything was stable until he could leave?

Cas gently drew back and pressed his forehead against Dean’s. “Where did you go?”

He chuckled. “Sorry. You might have noticed I tend to get lost in a wormhole if I think too much.”

“Then don’t” Cas said softly, “For now, don’t.”

And so Dean kissed him again and forgot, if only for a short time.

**The New Palace**

Lucifer was growing impatient. The demons had probably kept them back from reaching the royal family, but still – he should have heard something by now.

This other wizard, whoever he was, was really starting to get on his nerves.

Who could it possibly be? If he knew, he could use a curse and target him directly...

Lucifer closed his eyes and let the memories of a decade earlier pass by. Whoever it was, he must have known and liked the Winchesters, otherwise he wouldn’t be prepared to go against him. He must have been away or incapacitated in some other way during the revolution, because otherwise he would have acted then. He must be powerful, so probably over-confident and a bit annoying...

And then he remembered.

Fergus Crowley. The businessman who’d had thee ar of the king.

And, to be fair, once King John had started to listen to him, the economy had soared.

But that was beside the point.

He’d never have picked him as a wizard, but on the other hand...

He’d never liked Lucifer, but Lord Singer hadn’t either. And he certainly had never tried to take over his role. But still...

Even if he wasn’t the wizard, what did it matter? A wasted had-been would perish, and that would be that.

But if he was the wizard, and his demise gave Lucifer the power to finally find Prince Dean and do away with the Winchesters once and for all...

Lucifer grinned as he quickly worked on a voodoo doll. Granted, he hadn’t seen Crowley in over eight years, but he had a good memory, and the smug bastard wasn’t easy to forget.

True, he’d still owe the Darkness a soul if he just took Crowley away. But then, the other members of the royal family were still around. Time to get rid of them once and for all.

**On the way to LA**

By the time Crowley returned, Dean and Cas were practically asleep, lying close to one another.

The wizard shook his head. He hadn’t foreseen this when he’d dragged Cas along for the ride, but if they were happy...

And Dean would need all the help he could get. Sure, he had Crowley himself and that was already certain to make him go a long way, but Cas would look after him in case anything went wrong.

And there were too many things that could... He didn’t like working with so many unknown factors.

At least Prince Sam would be glad to see them. The visions he’d shown him would make sure of that. He’d also inadvertently activated the dormant psychic powers some Winchester had shown in the past, but that could only be a plus. If he caught be taught to direct the visions... But that was a subject for another time.

Hot, searing pain shot through his abdomen, making him crumble to the floor of the abandoned barn they were spending the night in.

“What – Crowley?”

Dean had woken up, and he would have answered him, but sadly he had the feeling that the only reply he could give would be a blood-curling scream so he just groaned to acknowledge he had heard him.

He had been targeted by curses before, and had trained his mind to separate from the pain his body so he could think.

Lucifer. Had to be. So he had figured it out after all. The problem was, he’d obviously used a Voodoo doll and Crowley was in too much pain to –

But there was something he had Lucifer didn’t. The rightful heir to the throne, the one whose bloodline was so intertwined with the land that its magic would recognize him.

“Crowley?”

Dean and Cas were kneeling next to him now, holding him down. Apparently he’d had a seizure. Great.

He reached out and grabbed what he hoped was Dean’s hand. The pain was making it difficult to tell.

 **Recognize him. Recognize who he is and what he wants** , he begged his magic. **Turn around. Make Lucifer feel the pain.**

He could have sworn Dean squeezed his hand.

And then, suddenly, he could breathe again.

“Crowley? What the hell is going on?”

He sat up and breathed, long, even breaths. “Lucifer. He must have figured out I am a wizard. Made a Voodoo doll.”

“A Voodoo doll? No offense, but why are you still alive then?”

“Because Lucifer is a sadistic bastard who gave me time to react, or rather, gave my magic time to react.”

“How?”

He had to tread carefully, Crowley well knew. If Lucifer would think so low as to use the spell he could only think of with abhorrence, Dean’s ignorance was crucial.

“I am afraid I used you as a... channel of sorts. Emotions, wishes, they can influence magic... I assume you were worried about me, just a little. It’s instinct. And so the magic reversed the flow.”

Thankfully they accepted his explanation, and Dean nodded. “I think we all need some rest.”

“Oh you two sweethearts sure do. I’d rather – “

“Crowley, I’m not an idiot, I know you keep watch over us at night. It’s high time we split up the watch.”

“That’s not – “

“Crowley, it wasn’t a request.”

He sounded a lot like his father and uncle when he was ordering someone around, just like he acted like his mother when it came to comforting people. Yes, he would make a formidable King – once they had got rid of that little problem called Lucifer. Metatron would be no problem.

“Alright” he conceded. “But the second either of you notices something strange, you wake me up, and I don’t care if it’s nothing.”

“Are you sure about that?” Cas asked.

“No, in fact I’ll probably be rather angry, but it’s still the safer option.”

“Alright” Dean decided, “We’ll do it then.”

Yes. He would make a great king.

Crowley decided to think about that rather than the fact that the two lovers cared enough about him to look after his well-being.

**The new Palace**

Everything was going fine. He could feel Crowley’s life in his hands, enjoyed the pain he was inflicting. Soon his heart would stop beating, unable to take –

Someone reversed the spell. The doll flew out of his hands as the torture he had just brought upon Crowley came back for him.

He was alone, which was a good thing because he must have looked utterly undignified as he crawled across the floor to get the doll; with a quick fire spell, he had it reduced to nothing and could breathe again.

What had just happened? Crowley must have managed to send the cruse back at him, although Lucifer had no idea how. He’d never heard of anything like this.

He gritted his teeth when he realized he couldn’t go after him again. He’d only risk it happening once more, and perhaps he’d be the one killed.

And he had no plan to allow the Darkness and its demons to take him.

He finally resigned himself to wait, forever if he had to.

**On the way to LA**

Dean noted with satisfaction that now that Crowley got more than two hours sleep at night, shielding them was far easier on him than it had been before. He looked much more alert and awake, although he did his best to pretend nothing had changed.

Dean grinned at Cas and took his hand. They’d been doing a lot of hand-holding while they were travelling. There had also been more kisses shared in the dark; and soft whispers against his skin that Dean didn’t dare to ask about when he was finally aware enough again to understand them.

Maybe this had a future after all.

“We should arrive tomorrow” Crowley said one evening, sounding relieved.

“Awesome. So I get to play prince” Dean said flatly. Now that they were close, he was not at all sire he could do this. He might be able to think and act quickly, but to be a prince? A leader the people needed? How was he supposed to do that?

And why was he doing it? He still didn’t get why he’d felt so compelled to agree, in the old palace. Why it had felt like coming home after a long absence. And was he even sure that was what he had felt like? He’d never had a home, not that he remembered, so –

Cas squeezed his hand. “You’ll ne wonderful” he told him. “I know you will.”

Dean smiled and tried to believe him.

**Los Angeles**

Bobby had never seen Sam happier than he had this morning, and he would have been glad for it, if only there’d been a different reason.

“Dean’s coming back today! I know it!”

“Sam” Bobby said, trading helpless glances with Rufus, “You remember we lost Dean –“

“Yes, but now he’s coming back! I always knew he would! I had a dream of him and the other young guy, you know the one I described to you before, coming to our door – “

“They would have to get past the guards – “

“They will!”

“Sam” he tried again, but Rufus shook his head and he let him return to his room.

“I have no idea” Rufus said. “Maybe if Dean doesn’t arrive today, he’ll snap out of it.”

“He better. What do we do if that doesn’t happen?”

Despite knowing he should probably consult a specialist, the last thing he wanted was Sam being prodded like a guinea pig for someone’s amusement.

Rufus shrugged and Bobby only barely bit back a curse. Couldn’t they ever catch a break?

A knock at the door, and a servant ushering in, looking confused.

“I’m very sorry milord, but there are two young man in the front hall... and one of them insists that he’s Prince Dean.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Los Angeles**

“Alright, then“ Crowley announced the morning after they had arrived in Los Angeles, I hope you are ready.“

“What do you mean?” Dean asked.

“I can’t come with you.”

“You can’t come – but you know the royal family.”

“And I refused to become the royal wizard, inadvertently leading to their downfall. Do you think Lord Singer is going to welcome me with open arms?”

A valid point, but even so Dean would rather have had Crowley with them just in case.

“You’ll stick around though, right?” he asked.

“Of course. I can’t possibly let pass the opportunity of dying at Lucifer’s hands.”

“That’s the spirit.”

“How do we get in the Winchester’s place?” Cas asked. “We can’t just stroll up to them and ask to be let in. They are bound to be sceptical.”

Crowley smirked. “And that’s where the art of dramatic entrances comes in.”

“Dramatic” in Crowley’s world meant he transported them right into the main hall to freak everyone out. Dean could hardly say he was surprised.

He wished he could hold Cas’ hand as the guards rushed towards them, but of course he couldn’t. That would have been possibly interpreted as weakness, and he needed to be the Prince from now on. The Lost Prince.

He cleared his throat. “Please tell my uncle and brother that Prince Dean has returned. This is Castiel, my guard.”

They stared at him. If the books he’d read were correct, they were Winchester loyalists who’d fled after the rebellion and offered their services.

“Well?” he asked after a few moments had passed, careful to sound as confident as possible, “What will it be? Do I have to find them myself?”

“O- Of course not” one guard finally stammered and left.

Cas’ presence grounded him. Perhaps Crowley had been right after all; if there had a familiar face among them it might have distracted from the moment.

He took a deep breath. He had to be a leader now, strong, unmoveable.

**Another room**

“What?” Bobby demanded.

“He says he’s Prince Dean” the guard answered, “And what’s more... I know I’m not supposed to – but he looks like him, milord.”

He had been with them since before Dean’s birth, and Bobby had been more than happy when she had shown up in Los Angeles after the revolution. He knew exactly what Dean had looked like. Still, he’d been a child, and now he would be eighteen years old...

“Show him in” he decided, “Don’t tell Sam yet.”

“He’s also brought a guard with him.”

“How does the guard look?”

“Not very intimidating if you ask me, milord.”

He had spent almost all her lives surrounded by them. He could trust his judgement.

“Fine, they can come in too.”

She nodded and left the room.

“Rufus – “

“Try to get me out of the room. Just try and see.”

He smiled.

Bobby was determined not to let any emotions show on his face. And yet, when the door was opened and two young men entered, he was almost overcome by the sense of familiarity.

He knew exactly which one claimed to be Dean. Those eyes, just like his mother’s... and he moved like John.

Bobby swallowed, forcing himself to remain calm.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Prince Dean, Lord Singer. I do understand you don’t want me to greet you as Uncle Bobby just yet.”

Something the Dean he knew might have said to make him feel comfortable... or he was even better an impostor than Bobby had thought.

“What do you want?”

“To throw Lucifer and Metatron out so our people can be happy and prosperous again, although seeing Sammy might be a good start.”

Sammy. He’d called him Sammy, just like that. Dean had been the only one who’d been allowed to, by the time Sam was six.

No; that was widely known, certainly. Bobby couldn’t allow himself to be swept up in a false story only to watch Sam’s heart break again.

He narrowed his eyes. “Why wait until now, boy? Why not come sooner?”

He shrugged. “I hit my head, developed amnesia. It was only recently that I realized who I am.”

“Amnesia?” A crazy story, sure, but just wild enough to be believable. This one was clever.

“Yep.”

“So do you remember how we escaped the palace that night?”

“There was a... kitchen boy” Dean said slowly. “He took us to where you were.”

Bobby could only stare at him.

* * *

 

Cas did his best to imitate the royal guards – unemotional, stoic. But he knew that this was the moment Lord Singer would either believe them or throw them out. There had been other people in the palace after all; anyone might have listened to them in the chaos of that awful night, and then –

“He... suddenly just stood there. I have no idea how he even found us. But... there he was. And he told me, “I know where Lord Singer is.” And “Come with me” so I did.”

Of all the things Cas had been expecting, it wasn’t that he’d feel as if a bucket of cold water had suddenly been splashed into his face. Somehow, he managed to stay composed. He’d never know how.

Because while he had told Dean he had brought the princes to Lord Singer, he had never told him what exactly h had said. And these words were seared into his memory.

But if Dean knew –

Then Dean was Prince Dean.

And he had dared to dream of a future they could have.

What an idiot he had been.

Princes didn’t marry kitchen boys. Once this was done, he would leave, leave Dean to this wonderful life that had suddenly opened up to him...

* * *

 

Somehow, Dean got the feeling that Cas was suddenly miles away. He couldn’t understand. But at least Lord Singer had bought his lie. He didn’t really know where the words the boy had supposedly spoken to him had come from; but the rest was enough to convince the older man that he was speaking the truth, or at least to give him a chance.

“You... how would you...”

“Can I see my brother now?” he asked softly, hoping he didn’t sound too unsure.

Lord Singer looked at him. After a few moments of silence, he said, “Look, I will be honest with you. Sam has been... he hasn’t been well lately. He’s been so certain his brother would come back, it’s almost become a mania. All I ask is that you don’t hurt him.”

Dean’s heart clenched. Poor little guy. He’d lost his parents and his brother in one night... and Dean was about to lie to him.

He swallowed. It was for the best. “I promise to do my outmost.”

It was as far as he allowed himself to go. He wished he could have looked at Cas to reassure himself, but it probably wouldn’t have been a good idea, considering how empty his side suddenly felt. What was going on? Had he moved away, ever so slightly? But why would he do that?

“I am sure you’d rather see your brother with just me present” Lord Singer said and Dean understood. He nodded, even though he didn’t want to leave Cas behind.

“Of course. Wait for me here” he told his friend, begging for a sign of what was wrong, but Cas just made a slight bow, as the body guards of the king had used to, in the time before.

He swallowed and followed Lord Singer out of the room.

* * *

 

Cas couldn’t allow himself to show his emotions in front of the servants. He clung to that. He was being pathetic anyway. Dean was the Prince. Dean was a wonderful man who would save their country and return it to its glory days. Whatever he felt or thought he felt for Cas would soon fade once he was with those who should have been his companions his whole life.

The guards seemed to think it safe enough to leave him alone and he was about to relax – at least as far as he could in the situation, now that everything had changed – when a servant came in.

A servant who’d been working for the Winchester for over twenty years.

He suddenly remembered her face peeping into the kitchen, making sure all the children were treated well, but there was no way –

“Hello, I’m Ava. I wonder if you’d like – Castiel? Is that you?”

He really hadn’t expected anyone to recognize him.  Yes, she had always been kind to him, but... “I...”

“Oh my God, it is you! Those eyes! How could I forget!”

To his surprise, she actually hugged him. “I wondered so often what became of the palace children” she sniffled, “Such bright souls.”

“Ava” he said gently but firmly, dislodging himself from her arms. “Please, you have to listen to me. This is important.”

“Yes?”

If word got out that he had served in the palace, Dean’s story seemed far less likely, and their plan wouldn’t work. “I know this sounds crazy, but you can’t tell anyone who I am...”

* * *

 

To say Dean was nervous would have been the understatement of the year. He was walking behind Lord Singer, trying to imagine being a boy and growing up around the man. By all accounts, he’d been very devoted to both boys. It was hardly surprising that he was still looking out for Prince Sam.

And yet Dean didn’t feel threatened in the slightest. On the contrary, as weird as it was, he felt extraordinary comfortable in his presence.

They reached Prince Sam’s room. Lord Singer took a deep breath.

“I’ll go in and prepare Sam. You are not to come in until I call you, understood?”

He nodded.

* * *

 

Sam was reading, of course. _The Knights of the Round Table_. He had begged Dean to read it to him again and again, back in the day.

“Sam...”

He looked up. “When you said that Dean was coming today...”

His eyes lit up. “He’s here?”

And, faster than Bobby ad thought possible, he jumped up and ran towards the door. It was all he could do to stop him.

“Sam... Listen to me. You remember how many imposters we’ve met over the years, right?”

He nodded. “But this _is_ Dean. I know it.”

“I know you believe that: And there’s nothing I would like more than for you to be right. But please promise me to be careful. It might not be Dean after all. Remember that.”

Sam studied his face, but finally nodded. Bobby was relieved. At least he could still listen to reason.

“Alright, then.” And he called for the man to get in.

When he opened the door, Sam rushed over to him. “Dean! I knew it! I always knew! And you look just like you did in my dreams!”

He hugged him as an indecipherable expression crossed the young man’s face.

* * *

 

Dean hadn’t expected such... enthusiasm from the young prince. Neither had he foreseen how protective he’d feel about him the second he laid eyes on him. He hugged back. “Hey, Sam.”

“It’s okay, you can say Sammy. I kind of missed it.”

Oh God, the poor boy. Small wonder Uncle Bobby had asked him to –

Lord Singer, of course. He had meant Lord Singer.

“Alright then, Sammy.”

“Now everything’s going to be alright, Bobby, I know it!”

Lord Singer gave them a somewhat pained smile.

This was going to be harder than Dean had thought.

* * *

 

Ava had finally promised that she would keep quiet, once he had convinced that it was for the best of the royal family and the country.

Thankfully she was gone by the time Crowley contacted him, his voice ringing loud and clearly in Cas’ head.

**Cassie, how is it going?**

He suppressed the urge to look around. Crowley was a wizard, and he wouldn’t risk coming here after he’d sent them in alone.

 _Did you know?_ He asked instead.

 **Know what?** Even in his head, he sounded defensive.

_That Dean is the lost Prince._

He already thought he’d get no answer when Crowley admitted, **Yes I did**. 


	16. Chapter 16

Crowley was pacing up and down in the small hotel room they’d found. By now, they were out of Lucifer’s reach; but it all depended on Dean acting exactly as he had taught him to; and on him not finding out...

Maybe he should check in with Cas. Just in case.

He wasn’t surprised that he had figured it out; he’d always known that was a risk he’d have to take; and so he could answer calmly, **Does Dean know?**

_Not yet._

**You can’t let him know.**

_Can’t let him – Crowley, it’s his life! His family! What game are you playing?_

**One I am determined to win, so you better get on my side.**

_Crowley –_

**Castiel, have you ever known me to do something that wasn’t absolutely necessary?**

Silence.

**Alright, have you ever known me not to go after what I want?**

_I’ll concede the point._

**Then trust me on this. Have I kept you and Dean safe until now or haven’t I?**

_I suppose you are right._

Talking telepathically made things a little bit more difficult than normal, but Crowley could have sworn Cas sounded.... dejected. What could possibly have made him sad? His lover was to be king.

_So what do I do?_

**You play your role.**

_These things might come easy to you._

He sounded decidedly bitter now.

**Yes they do honey, so why don’t you smile and play body guard. Is Dean with you?**

_Lord Singer took him to see Sam. Also there’s..._

Crowley hadn’t even known it was possible to trail off during a mind conversation. Leave it to the boy with the angelic face and name.

**What is it?**

_An old servant of the Winchesters. She recognized me._

**Tell me you handled it.**

It would have been possible for Crowley to change her memories, of course. He had done similar things in the past. But any taste for spells of that kind had died eight years ago, when he had realized that despite his reluctance to become the royal wizard, over time he had slowly started to go down the same path that Lucifer must have trod once.

He would not end like him.

_She won’t say anything. Even though I know Dean is the prince, we can’t prove it and if Lord Singer were to hear I was the kitchen boy who helped them, he’d think it was a ploy._

Exactly. Crowley was more than a little relieved to hear it. He knew Cassie wasn’t stupid, but the shock at realising Dean was indeed royalty could have caused him to betray their cause. Even though he had considered at several points in their adventure to be open about their plan to the royal family, he sadly knew better. Lord Singer was too decent a man to win back the populace by using an imposter. He had to believe, or at least strongly suspect, that this was his nephew without said nephew being none the wiser.

What had he gotten himself into? He could have just fled the night of the rebellion. It would have been easier. But to his own surprise, he’d found he had a heart. What a dangerous thing to have, in times like these.

Not too much of it, of course. 

In a way, he knew very ell he was using all of them for his redemption. Still. He was saving the country at the same time, so he was entitled.

**Just make sure you don’t tell Dean. Everything will work out fine.**

_You can say that, but you’re not the one who’s here._

**Trust me, I’m never far away. Magic, remember?**

He didn’t get an answer, but maybe that was quite enough. 

* * *

Sam was busy telling Dean everything he’d missed in the last eight years. It was a lot to take in, but he let him prattle on. After all, what was the harm? The Prince was a kid, and Deans soon realized he was more lonely than anything else. He should have had friends of the same age as him, but understandably Bobby had considered it highly risky introducing him to strangers.

“And I always knew you’d come back! Even when Bobby told me you wouldn’t. Because you’d promised me you’d always be there for me. Remember?”

“Of course, we were playing in the garden. I was like... what, eight? So you were barely even alive,”

“I was four, jackass. But yeah, you promised.”

Somehow it had felt natural to tell Sam about playing in the garden,. He must really be growing into his role.

Part of him wished he truly was his brother. He’d always wanted siblings.

He reminded himself of the role he had to play. After all, he’d have to tell them the truth eventually.

Not yet though. Not for a while. 

* * *

 

Bobby tried to remain sceptical, he really did. But seeing Sam as talkative as he hadn’t been in months, as trusting as he had always been when it came to his brother, and as eager to include Dean in his life as had been the case from the moment he could walk was almost too much.

He wondered how the guard was faring. Better go check on him; maybe he could extract some sort of confession from him, where he had stumbled upon the prince, why he was serving him, and most of all, how and why they should believe this Dean.

He opened the door and called in Rufus.

“Look after them, but don’t interfere” he murmured. Sam and – Sam and the man who had come to visit were lost in their own little world. Rufus nodded.

The guard was exactly where They had left him, and Bobby couldn’t help but wonder if he’d really stood there the whole time, staring into the empty air.

There was something familiar about him, but Bobby couldn’t place him. He was certainly too young to have been a guard at the palace, or have much to do with their family in general;: and if he’d known them before, he would certainly have said so in order to gain sympathy.

“So what’s your name?”

“Cas” he replied casually.”My name’s Cas, Lord singer.”

“And how, if you don’t mind me asking, did you happen across the heir to the throne?”

“Quite frankly, we were both,.,, making the best out of our situations and we stumbled across one another. I knew immediately... I mean, I felt he was something special.”

Yes. The stoic guard was blushing.

Guard my ass, Bobby thought. There was clearly something going on between these two. Not that he minded; the Winchesters had legalized same-sex marriage centuries ago; he was certainly the last man to begrudge anyone a little comfort. It did raise the question why they hadn’t simply introduced themselves as lovers, however.

The easy answer: A prince travelling with a guard was more believable than one running around the country with his boyfriend. Bobby didn’t like the implications of that.

Damn it. The boy talking to Sam had already wormed his way under his skin. This didn’t bode well.

On the other hand...

“Do you have any idea what... Dean’s plans are?”

Cas nodded. “I think he wants to take back the country... We’ve seen it, how people are suffering... it ahas to end.”

“I’ve wanted to try often enough; but the people wouldn’t rally behind us until we found the rightful heir, or proof that he was dead. That was impossible, of course...”

“Since he hadn’t died” Cas supplied.

Again, he reminded Bobby of someone. If he only could have guessed...

“You ever been to the palace before the rebellion?”

“I never was a visitor there, I can assure you of that, Lord Singer.”

“Shut up. We’re planning a revolution together; you might as well call me Bobby.

The young man smiled.

**The New Palace**

Lucifer knew he was playing a risky game. In a way, he was impressed with Crowley; he would certainly not have thought him capable of such an elaborate plan.

Only too bad Crowley didn’t know how far he’d go. It was time to get rid of the Winchesters once and for all.

He would give the Darkness their souls, and he would live forever.

His magic had been depleting further and further, which meant Dean must be within a few miles of his family now, at least.

The curse he’d bestowed on the people wouldn’t hold against them all working together.

And that was where this would come in, the curse that would kill Dean and entrap the souls of Sam and Singer.

He mixed the ingredients, ingredients even the darkest of covens had forbidden long ago; but he knew that there was a prize for power, and if he truly wanted to rule, he had to do it.

Once he’d finally killed all Winchester, he wouldn’t need Metatron anymore either. No more whining, no more crying about his books. Just him and the throne.

Lucifer smiled as he contemplated the future.

The Winchesters and their friends didn’t stand a chance.


	17. Chapter 17

It helped that Bobby was far more eager to have them return home than he had let on. While he was clearly still sceptical of Dean – and who could blame him, certainly not Cas, even though he hated himself for not doing away with his suspicions per Crowley’s orders – he was ready to listen and make plans.

They left Sam out of it; no fourteen-year-old should have to fight this war, no matter how much he complained.

“Sammy” Deans aid sternly, looking down at his brother, “I know you think it’s unfair, but you will understand once you are older. I promise. You need to trust me, alright?”

He did. Cas’ couldn’t help but smile. He would lose Dean, or rather, Dean would leave him behind for a company more worthy of him; but he and his brother would likely grow as close as they had been when Cas had been standing in the shadows and watched them, wishing to join them in their play but knowing there was too much of a difference between them.

Even back then he’d known.

He could tell that Bobby was thinking the same about Sam and Dean; he actually had to turn away to keep anyone from seeing the tears in his eyes.

Cas wanted to comfort him, but couldn’t. He had no idea what game Crowley was playing, but he better deliver. Or Cas was going to – to –

He couldn’t really think of something to do to a powerful wizard, but he would.

“So” Dean began, “do you know the state the country’s in?”

“Not much, but I’m aware it’s not good” Bobby said simply. “We know people are starving and homeless, and that Metatron doesn’t care.”

“The orphanage I grew up in...” Dean began carelessly, but stopped when Bobby flinched. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to – “

“It’s fine boy” he said gruffly. “I just don’t like the thought of you living in such a place, especially not under Metatron.”

Cas remembered that growing up in an orphanage hadn’t even been considered that much of a disadvantage when he was a boy. Of course parentless children were pitied; but no one had looked down on them, for they had known the rules of the country were doing their outmost to keep them off the streets, well-fed and educated.

He preferred not to think about what Dean must have gone through in the past eight years. Paradoxically enough, his amnesia must have helped him. A young terrified boy would easily have given away who he was, and he would probably have been lynched just like his parents. But a poor kid who didn’t even know his own name... Yes, he’d been thrown into an orphanage and grown up without love or guidance, but he was alive, and he had turned into the wonderful man he was today.

The wonderful man Cas lo-

He shook his head. He had to learn to live without him. There’d been a life before Dean, there’d be one after.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t wonder what could have been, in the lonely nights that were to come.

* * *

 

Bobby was trying very hard not to believe the young man immediately. But he’d bonded with Sam within seconds, and some of his mannerisms reminded him very much of the little boy who’d taken so much pride in looking after his brother.

Even if he and this Cas guy were still hiding the extremely obvious fact that they were lovers.

He talked like a future King too.

But here was the thing: in a sense, it didn’t even matter if this was Dean or not. What they needed was a symbol, a promise of better times to come; and young, brave heir to the throne was exactly that. Once they had taken back their home and things calmed down, they could talk about proof and the right to rule, but not before.

“No one I ever talked to even remembered how the rebellion started” Cas said, “And most wish it hadn’t taken place.”

“And who doesn’t regret it?”

“Mostly those who now live in the Palace to serve Metatron... As far as I know, most of them were regarded as criminals under the old rule.”

Dean snorted. “Sounds about right. Scum draws in scum.”

Bobby frowned. “They are still our people. They will be punished if they committed any crime, of course...

“I didn’t mean to suggest that we should throw people who just did their jobs for Metatron in jail – as long as they didn’t harm anyone, of course.”

That sounded very much like something John or Mary would have said, if they had been there to help them. Either he was a pretty good actor, or he was actually...

“Thing is” Bobby said quickly, “even if people are unhappy about Metatron, there’s Lucifer to consider.”

Dean grimaced. “Yeah. He’s pretty powerful, but still – it’s not like I’ll go against him one on one. We’re all in this together, right?”

“Of course Dean” his boyfriend answered, looking at him as if he was the most important thing in the world. His expression was exactly the one John had had on his face when looking at Mary, or how Karen had looked at Bobby, so very long ago when they had gotten married. Whether this was his nephew or not, Bobby couldn’t help but be glad he’d found love. It was so difficult to gain and so very easy to lose.

All in all, Cas seemed to be rather clever, too. Not a bad addition to the team by any means. The Winchesters had always believed in marrying for love; Mary had been a commoner; and if he should stick around and everything worked, Bobby could easily see him reign alongside...

He was doing it again. He was already seeing Dean in that man he didn’t know, and he needed to stop. He couldn’t allow himself to grow attached in case... in case...

“Still, I would have preferred to have some magical assistance as well” he admitted, once again thinking of Crowley. He’d long ago stopped blaming the wizard for the rebellion, although he still thought they might have had a chance if he’d become the royal wizard. If there was one thing he’d learned in his life, it was that had to know one’s real enemies. Lucifer was, and Crowley had never been one. He’d have liked to know him on their side now.

“We may be able to help you with that” Dean said carefully. “But we don’t know for sure.”

There was something these boys weren’t telling him. But as long as it helped them save their home country...

“First and foremost, I think we should spread rumours that the heir has been found” Cas said. “I know many who would join us then. We would have to be careful, of course; Lucifer mustn’t know too soon.”

“I agree with you there” Bobby said. “Well, it shouldn’t be too difficult to get someone to spread rumours. In fact, that sounds like the easiest part.

Dean nodded. “What I remember... Gossip was all we had.”

“Not anymore” Cas said quietly. He wished he could reach out and take Dean’s hand, but he couldn’t. Not anymore.

Never again.

Instead, he smiled at him and hoped it was enough even as he mourned for what could never be.

**The New Palace**

They were getting closer. Lucifer could feel it, or rather, he could tell from the draining of his powers in the months that followed his decision to wait. Of course the people still believed he was as strong as ever – he couldn’t risk otherwise – but in fact he was growing more and more tired.

He was starting to wonder if Crowley had counted on it, but dismissed the thought. He wouldn’t overestimate the pitiful wizard. HE was clearly no match for him, otherwise he would have tried long ago.

So, then, what was the plan? They obviously wanted the throne back. Lucifer wasn’t stupid enough they actually cared for the people in the country. No one who had ever tasted power ever cared for anything else again, he knew that well enough.

It was one of the reasons he thought so little of Crowley. The stupid wizard had even turned his back on power when he’d had the chance.

But how were they going to try? Clearly they couldn’t go after him directly. They had no way of knowing his magic was depleting.

But what then? What could they possibly do?

Now and then, Metatron came to him, yammering about how people seemed more discontented every day. Too bad, but nothing Lucifer cared about. The people didn’t matter. They never had, and they never would. They had once been a useful tool for him to play with, but that was it.

He was growing frustrated. None of these humans behaved in any logical sense or manner.

He would show them.

Let them come.

The ingredients for the spell had been long ready.

He would wipe the Winchesters and their entourage off the face of the earth once and for all.


	18. Chapter 18

**Lawrence**

Crowley would have considered sowing discontent amongst the people of their homes country almost impossible once, but Lucifer had achieved it.

And now? Now most were already so unhappy it took little effort on his part.

Of course it also helped that he could whisper about the Prince being found and ready to take back the throne.

And, as always, once humans were desperate enough to believe something, the stories wrote themselves.

“I heard the Prince is assembling an army” the butcher whispered to him one day in Lawrence. He’d returned alone; both Dean and Cas were safer with Bobby and Sam now, and this was part of his existence he’d always delighted in – making a plan and ensuring it went well, and yes, lying to people as well.

He was a wizard, not a saint.

Sure, he had to be especially careful because Lucifer’s spies were everywhere. Once that would have worried him, but now he could only laugh about it.

The royal wizard must be very worried – and his magic must be very low already.

Crowley knew exactly what kind of curse he had thrown at the royal family. The kind that had called out to him in dark nights as well, to take control and power for no other reason than he could.

He was still surprised that he had eventually landed on the side of good, or at least of neutral veering towards good. It really could have gone either way.

But, because he was trying to put things right, here he was, and he was going nowhere. Lucifer’s magic would grow weaker and weaker, and he’d be there to watch.

And then, once he had reinstated the Winchesters...

Oh well. He could always wonder what came next once this was dealt with.

**Los Angeles**

Dean didn’t get it.

Things were going according to plan – at least Crowley let them know regularly that that was the case, and there was no reason to doubt it – Sam and Bobby were growing closer to him by the second (and, he had to admit, he’d come to like them immensely as well; it would be difficult to leave, but he was doing the right thing) and people were actually presenting themselves at their doors ever since the news had got out that the Prince was back and ready to fight.

Basically, everything that could have gone wrong until now had gone right instead.

Except for one thing.

Ever since the day they had arrived here, Cas was distancing himself from him. Dean could understand it when they were discussing what to do next with the Winchesters, or when they were in full view of the other servants or guards; but even when they were alone, Cas never touched him anymore, and his kisses were a distant memory.

Dean had tried talking to him about it, but Cas had refused to explain.

With a sickening feeling in his stomach, Dean realized one day that it had been almost a week since they’d really spoken to one another.

Cas must be regretting the things they had shared back in Lawrence. Obviously he’d realized he was not nearly as invested as Dean was, and was now doping the right thing by drawing back.

Dean would have thanked him for it if it only hadn’t heard so much. As far as he could remember, Cas had been the first man to ever make him feel like he was worth something in the eyes of another – and not just as an imposter to be used, but as the one who had grown up as Michael and protected the other kids.

He tried his best to stay princely at all times – he couldn’t afford to let this affect the way he acted – but Bobby figured it out.

Dean was for once relaxing in the library when he approached him. “What’s up with you and Cas lately, you idjit?”

The first time he’d called him that, Dean had been more than a little taken aback, but he had soon figured out that it was a form of endearment.

“What do you mean? Cas is my guard – “

“Don’t try with me. Do you really think I don’t realize when two people are in love?”

Dean sighed and put the book by Kilgore Trout away. “Or one of them.”

“What do you mean?”

“Cas doesn’t – he isn’t – he doesn’t feel that way about me. He’s made that pretty clear.”

So he’s told you.”

Dean was silent.

“So he hasn’t told you.”

“He doesn’t have to. Believe me, avoiding to be in the same room together unless there’s another person present is pretty telling.”

Bobby hummed, but still looked sceptical. “I find that hard to believe. No matter what we’re talking about, no matter who’s speaking, that boy’s eyes always stay firmly on you.”

Dean chuckled humourlessly. “Just like a good guard’s supposed to be, right?”

“Dean...” he began, then stopped abruptly, looking away.

Dean understood. It couldn’t be easy growing close to someone when one was still very suspicious of him, and rightly so – although Bobby didn’t know that last apart.

Worst thing about it was that Dean was feeling worse and worse about lying to him. He was a decent man, a good man who had kept his surviving nephew safe all these years while dealing with his own grief, and all he got in exchange was a false Prince and the vague hope he could reclaim his home.

“What I mean to say, boy” he finally added, “is that love tends to find a way, whether we’re clever enough to realize it or not. I wouldn’t be too worried, if it’s meant to be, it will happen.”

“Like Mom and Dad” he said quietly. “Mom always said they hated each other at first said before they fell in love.”

“Exactly” Bobby smiled. “But that didn’t last long. To be honest, I expected it long before they realized they didn’t despise each other as much as they had thought. You don’t waste that much time complaining about someone as John did about Mary if you don’t find them fascinating.”

He left Dean with that. He hadn’t really comforted him, if he was being honest. Sure, it was nice to hear about other people falling in love, but as long as that didn’t mean that Cas would suddenly find Dean interesting enough to –

It didn’t matter. It had only been a few stolen kisses anyway. Once this was over, Cas would take the money and disappear from his life, and he and his brother could live in peace. Dean had no idea what he was going to do. Go back to the orphanage maybe, help the kids, give them a chance to make something out of themselves.

And then he’d be alone.

He would all the time in the world to cry about it later. Now, it was important to focus. Crowley was right. They had to do this, they had to make it, or their country would be tightly in Lucifer’s grasp forever.

Dean thought of the hungering masses on the streets, of children crying out for food and love. They had to help them. His own heartache be damned.

* * *

 

Gabriel would have told him that he was being ridiculous, Cas well knew.

But it hurt too much to be alone with Dean and know that he wasn’t allowed to touch him, that he wasn’t supposed to want to.

Still, he shouldn’t have given him the cold shoulder. He was, after all, his Prince.

His Prince. Yes, he would always be; there was no doubt in Cas’ mind that he had firmly wormed his way under his skin and into his heart, and that years from now, when the country was at peace and everyone praised their wonderful king, he would still be alone, yearning for something he couldn’t have and shouldn’t wish for.

Crowley was making progress, at least, and they were slowly building up the troops they needed. They hoped that, once the rightful heir marched up to the borders, Lucifer’s army would either retreat or, in the best case, join them, but one could never know.

Cas trained a lot with the other guards. Having more or less grown up on the streets after the rebellion had ensured that he was a good fighter, but there was much he had yet to learn, and most of the others were glad to help him improve his swordsmanship. They had noticed Ava doting on him – although they thankfully just put this as more proof of her caring nature – and that alone would probably have made them like him, if he hadn’t been regarded as the one who returned their Prince back to them.

“The way he talks, just like his father” Cain, one of their oldest knights, declared one day during training, “You can’t just fake that.”

How right he was, but Cas only smiled.

Yes, things were going well.

And if he had to build a wall around his heart to ensure they continued to do so, he would do exactly that.


	19. Chapter 19

**Los Angeles**

Dean was once more feeling sorry for himself in his quarters when Crowley appeared. Not entered or showed up, just... appeared. He’d slowly grown used to it in the last month. Apparently now that he didn’t have to shield them, Crowley had a lot more power at his disposal.

“It’s time.”

“What?” Dean got up. “Are you saying – “

“I am saying it’s time to get your throne back, my Prince.”

“Don’t call me that” he spat, registering but not understanding the gleam in Crowley’s eyes.

“If you insist. The point is, I think the country is ready and more importantly, we are ready. It’s important to strike at the right moment.”

Dean nodded.

“Alright then – “ Crowley stopped talking and studied him, then  sighed. Without invitation, he let himself fall down on a chair. “What is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you really think I don’t recognize the look of a puppy that’s been kicked? Come on.”

Dean sighed. “It’s none of your business.”

“On the contrary, I’m the one who got you to where you are right now; it is entirely my business.”

Silence.

Eventually, Dean said, “You’re not going to leave until I tell you, are you.”

“Nope.”

He sat down on his bed. “Cas and I... it’s complicated.”

“What is? You were practically attached at the hip when I sent you here.”

“We – “ Dean took a deep breath. “We were close, yeah. But ever since that day... Cas has been avoiding me. And if that’s not his way of telling me he’s not interested, I don’t know what is.”

“Don’t be overdramatic. I’m sure there is a reason.”

“Yes, he doesn’t feel the same way about me.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Dear God, I leave you alone for one month –“

“You didn’t, you showed up now and then – “

“Besides my point. What happened? You were Romeo and Juliet-ing it up when I left you...”

“Like I said, he realizes he’s not interested.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard, and I listened to Lucifer’s rants when he came to court on a regular basis.”

“Crowley...”

“Why do you two have to be so utterly frustrating?”

“You’re the one who picked me” Dean reminded him.

“I am very aware of that, trust me. Is there a way you two can work together until this is over and done with?”

“Yes.” As a matter of fact, Dean was rather sure that was all they would ever be able to achieve; working towards a common goal and then disappearing from each other’s lives.

“Thank God. Cassie is an excellent strategist.”

“Then why do you need me at all?” Dean spat. “Just so you have a symbol?”

Crowley stood up and walked towards him. “Don’t underestimate the importance of having something to fight for. Yes, the people have their country to think of, and Lucifer and Metatron to hate. But what have they to look forward to? You think little of symbol, but they are what this is all about. Where would be without something to gain? Where would we be if there wasn’t someone who presented the possibility of better things, be it God or a man? Think of it as martyrdom – does it hurt? Do you wish you’d never been chosen?= Absolutely. But it’s necessary.”

“Easy to say for someone who has never sacrificed anything in his entire life.”

“You think I haven’t loved and lost? I am a wizard, Dean. And I have kept away from people for a very long time, and perhaps it would have been better if I had ignored them forever. But I didn’t, and now I am here, doing what I do best. You, though – you are infinitely more important to the people, because you give them something you thought impossible before.”

He vanished without another word, and Dean was left trying to understand what his game was to begin with.

* * *

 

They were ready.

Cas had known long before Dean had told him of Crowley’s visit, looking troubled. The guards were prepared to fight, more and more people volunteered to help, the reports coming from their home country all indicated that the Winchesters could finally fix the mess Lucifer had created.

And then, Cas would leave. He would grab Gabriel and leave –

No, that wasn’t fair to his brother. Cas couldn’t force him to leave his home behind –

Cas would have to go alone. Alone and unwanted, as he had always been. he knew he made people uncomfortable, he stared too much, was too direct. He was no match for a Prince.

A Prince who would be expected to marry and produce offspring anyway. What could Cas offer to him? Nothing. It was right that he as keeping his distance.

And then Crowley showed up, because he always did.

“Cassie, why are you here moping? Dean already does enough of that for the both of you.”

He didn’t think so. If he was being honest, he’d though Dean was dealing with their separation far better than he. He was out there, playing the Prince, saving the world –

“Why did I ever decide to join you two chuckleheads?”

“You more or less strong-armed us into this if I remember correctly.”

“You don’t, but that’s not the point.”

“Crowley, what do you want with me? Shouldn’t you be talking to Dean?”

“I already did, which is why I am here and trying to make one of you see sense. I need both of you.”

Cas turned away.

“I meant it, Castiel. We need Dean to lead our people, and he needs you.”

“Our people?”

It was the first time Crowley had ever firmly put himself on their side – no, that wasn’t correct. It was the first time he’d spoken the words aloud.

“I meant – “

“Crowley, we both know what you meant. But why would a prince need me?”

“Why would – everybody needs support.”

“He has his brother, and Lord Singer. He doesn’t need me.”

Crowley just stared at him. “Hopeless. Both of you.”

With these inspiring words, he vanished.

Cas would never understand him.

**Los Angeles, someplace else**

If these idiots did not ruin everything by themselves, they could actually make it.

Crowley was determined that they would and that they could.

Their country would have its rightful king back, with Cas at the throne beside him. As it should.

Now if they could only please get their act together, everything would be well.

But of course Cas had to take the high ground and awesome that a prince was not to marry a former kitchen boy. Seriously, had he never read fairy tales when he was a kid?

Crowley took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. It was time to see how much power Lucifer still had.

A monitoring spell was so boring and so unimportant that the other wizard had most likely never thought to shield himself from it.

Crowley was right.

Lucifer had never bothered to mark himself against a spell that only had the purpose to find out how strong he was.

And his magic was sick, frayed at the edges, unable to sustain itself for long.

Quite the opposite of Crowley’s own, really; to his surprise, it had grown stronger and stronger since he had decided to use his powers for good.

But still – a direct attack wouldn’t work. He knew that well enough. Lucifer’s magic wasn’t entirely his own.

He had made a deal with the Darkness. It would protect him, enable him to survive until it could finally completely consume him.  A fate Crowley had managed to avoid – he didn’t know by how much, but still.

Lucifer would be safe until...

Until.

Crowley was still certain he would indeed use the very last resort, the nastiest spell he had ever seen; that was exactly why he had taken such extreme steps to make certain that –

It would work.

It had to work.

**Lawrence**

The people awoke.

For too long, they had lived through pain and malnourishment; for too long they had accepted the inevitable after the spell made them destroy themselves.

For too long they had not even accepted that it was a spell. And then they had tried to wrap their head around what had happened, instead of turning everything around.

It was time. The rumours had been flying around for well over a month. The rightful heir had returned. Prince Dean would lead them.

The golden age would return.

The people awoke.


	20. Chapter 20

The new rebellion happened faster than anyone had thought possible.

Dean really had little to do but to enter Lawrence at a strategic point; and with Crowley there to point out when most people would be on their way home from work using the main street, it wasn’t too difficult.

Neither was having Bobby proclaim him the Prince right then and there.

What happened next was a bit confusing, but hardly dangerous given they had a powerful wizard on their side and Lucifer was apparently safely hidden in the New Palace, trying to gather his strength for one last strike.

* * *

 

Dean was more than a little nervous. No, screw that, he was downright terrified.

But at least he had Sam at his side, and Bobby, and... Cas.

Yes, for the show, for the public, he was his guard again, right next to him, where he belonged.

No. Where Dean wished he belonged. Once they had won, he would make sure Cas’ brother got out of jail... and that he got handed the reward money whether he’d accept it or not.

They still hadn’t mentioned Crowley, but it was well-known that there was a powerful wizard at their side, and he rather thought Bobby suspected the truth. At least he’s stopped asking questions and just looked knowingly whenever the subject was brought up.

Dean had been a little hesitant to bring Sam along, but the boy had insisted on it. He wanted them to have their home back. “You’re going to be King, Dean!” he’d exclaimed, his eyes sparkling.

Dean had no idea how to tell him the truth.

He’d cross that bridge when he came to it.-

First of all, he had to defeat Lucifer. A small task certainly, but it needed to be done, he told himself, sounding suspiciously like Crowley inside his head.

They were marching towards the New Palace.

There was a commotion behind them but as it soon transpired, it was the border guards; having been alerted to what was going on, they had indeed decided to join them rather than fight.

Dean took a deep breath. Everything was going nicely.

Way too nicely.

Cas touched his arm. “We’ll be fine” he promised.

Only they wouldn’t be because Cas would leave, even if they won. Dean didn’t look at him.

* * *

 

Cas had no idea how to be there for Dean on a day such as this. HE would have loved to reassure him, tell him he was the prince they had been looking for; but Crowley’s warning still rang in his ears. He couldn’t tell him. And Crowley had a reason for everything he did, even though these reasons tended not to make sense for a while.

Dean wouldn’t even look at him.

He’d been right to withdraw, then; not only was Dean of royal blood, he couldn’t even draw much comfort from Cas’ presence.

Lord Singer and Prince Sam were with them, the boy looking around with large eyes as he saw his hometown for the first time since he had been six years old.

He would make a bright scholar one day, Cas had no doubt.

But first, they had to fight. First they had to get rid of Lucifer.

**The New Palace**

Metatron’s corpse fell down on the floor with a heavy thump. Now, when they needed to keep their wits about them, he’d decided to freak out.

Really, he’d been annoying Lucifer for years now. It would have happened one way or another, certainly.

He pried the knife out of his back.

His knife. His special knife.

The knife that would kill the Prince and his family with one sweep, dedicating their souls to the Darkness. Lucifer would be powerful and free to do what he wanted.

Granted, there was a certain risk involved, but at least it also ensured that no one but a Winchester could vanquish him.

Singer was too old; Sam was too young; it could only be Prince Dean, and he would make sure he died first.

He was waiting now. Biding his time. Let the people revolt, let them come.

He was ready.

* * *

 

Crowley was waiting for them at the door of the New Palace.

“Lucifer and Metatron are inside, the servants have fled” he informed them.

Bobby looked like he wanted to say something, but decided against it.-

Sam had no such scruples. “You look familiar.”

“I knew your parents quite well, my prince.”

Crowley, Cas noticed, had indeed decided to throw in his lot with them. There had been a time when he would have been hesitant to call Sam “my prince” instead of just “prince”.

Even wizards had hearts, and it seemed like Crowley had finally admitted to himself what his had been telling him for quite some time.

There as hope for them all yet, if he could be decent.

Sam nodded. “What are you – “

“He’s a wizard!” someone shouted from the crowd.

Crowley nodded. “Someone had to get rid of Lucifer’s protections. When it comes to defeating him, though... I’m afraid that will be up top Prince Dean.”

Dean nodded. Granted, he didn’t look forward to going up against a powerful wizard; he was lying to a family who were just desperate to have one of their own back; he was cheating the populace off their rightful heir; and his and Cas’ relationship was doomed before it had been truly begun.

But at least he had something to do.

“What do I have to do?”

“He’s going to use a knife. Silver, huge. I am afraid you’ll have to plunge it inside his heart.”

Dean swallowed again. “Is that all?”

Crowley shrugged. “If there was another way, I’d tell you.”

Of course Dean had been in his fair share of fights at the orphanage. He had kicked children who were mean to others, he’d tried to keep them from stealing the food of the small ones, he’d done his best to protect them from Ramiel’s wrath. But cold-blooded murder? That was something else entirely.

And then he looked around, at the half-starved masses who just wanted a chance to live again, at the royal family who had been grieving for eight long years, at Cas who just wanted to help his brother.

He took a deep breath.

He could do this. It was the right thing to do.

“I’ll go in alone.”

“Dean –“ Cas began, but he shook his head.

“No; i have to. He’ll be expecting me.”

Crowley nodded. “Just... do what you have to.”

Dean was under the impression that in his own way Crowley had just told him to be careful.

He looked at Cas one more time – to memorize his features or to say goodbye just in case, he wasn’t sure – and entered the New Palace.

Lucifer was waiting for him in a hall not far from the door. “Ah. Prince Dean. Returned home at last to save his country.”

Dean didn’t answer.

“So silent? I was hoping you’d be a bit more talkative... after all, it will be the last words you’ll ever speak.”

“I don’t think so” he answered with a confidence he didn’t feel.

“Ah, well – Goodbye, then.” And, shouting a few words in what Dean believed was Latin, he threw the knife at him.

Dean didn’t have the time to duck, but strangely felt nothing as it entered his chest. Automatically, he grabbed the handle and pulled.

The knife was still clean.

He was unharmed.

“What the – “

“You should be dead!” Lucifer called out. “The Prince should be – “

“Yes, but here’s the thing; I’m not the prince” Dean said calmly, advancing towards him. “But it doesn’t matter.”

Another step. “This is for my country.”

The next step.

“My family, whether I ever knew them or not.”

Almost there now.

“For Cas and his brother; for Crowley and his attempts to better himself.”

He was standing in front of him now.

“And this is for you.”

He stabbed Lucifer. A loud scream erupted from his mouth, Dean was thrown against the wall, and suddenly –

_“Dad!” he laughed as he picked him up. “Sammy took his first steps today!”_

_“I know, your Mom told me. Also that you caught him when he fell. Well done, son.”_

_“I’m always gonna be there for him!”_

_“Of course you will. Just like you’ll always be there for our country.”_

Oh God.

He was the Prince.

He had a family.

 A family that was in the middle of storming into the castle.

“Dean!”

Cas was the first to reach him and helped him up. “Are you alright?”

He nodded, looking into Cas’ eyes. “I am the prince” he said breathlessly.

Cas swallowed. “I know.”

Dean turned to his family and Crowley, not letting go of Cas yet. “He tried to kill me, but didn’t succeed. I don’t understand.”

“That’s explained easily enough” Crowley said. “The knife was supposed to kill the rightful heir to the throne in the process of taking it back. Quite specific, and almost always deadly. But if the Prince were not to know that he was the Prince... the spell wouldn’t find the right victim because the victim didn’t know it was supposed to be a victim in the first place. And that made Lucifer vulnerable.”

Silence reigned.

Bobby finally said, “You knew all along, didn’t you?”

Crowley’s answer was lost in the cheering of the crowd, rushing through the door towards Dean to pledge their loyalty.


	21. Chapter 21

Crowley stood at the window of the old Palace, watching the populace celebrate in the streets. He’d fixed it up nicely as what he had then believed one last act of kindness (and when had it even come to that?) before leaving.

The new King had other plans.

“Ah, the royal wizard” Bobby drawled, stepping up to him. “How are we this evening?”

He wasn’t as smug as Crowley would have expected him to be, but then he’d been surprised several times in the last day alone. For example, he had accepted the position immediately.

“I’m fine milord, thank you.”

“Say, there’s a thing I wanted to ask you.”

He’d suspected he would.

“You knew where Dean was all this time, didn’t I?”

“I had a strong suspicion, you might call it. But this wasn’t just about him, or you. It was about the country too. How could we accept a leader who hasn’t lived here his whole life and struggled like the others have struggled?”

Crowley didn’t mention that he had been guarding him all the time. It went without saying.

“You are a strange man, wizard Crowley.”

“I sincerely hope so. Someone had to make sure Cas didn’t immediately grab his brother and leave, so I put him in charge of the guard. The rest is up to Dean.”

“You’ve got an answer for everything, haven’t you.”

“I’d like to think so” Crowley admitted, once more looking out the window, “But I’m afraid I know better.”

* * *

 

Dean had half-expected Cas to leave without another word, but as Sam (his Sammy, his wonderful annoying brother, he was so big now, he’d grow taller than him soon) had told him, he was still around, talking to the guards.

“His brother’s annoying though, but I guess I’ll have to get used to him” he said, making a face.

“I don’t think – all Cas wanted was to get him out of jail – “

“Dean I’m fourteen not an idiot. I know you two are in love.”

He swallowed. “He doesn’t – “

“Seriously? You think he doesn’t feel the same?” Sam asked, baffled. “He looks at you like you’re his whole world.”

“You really think so?” Dean asked. He wouldn’t have just believed everyone, but this was Sam. He was so clever Dean had managed to teach him how to read when he was only three. He’d still liked it better when he read to him, though.

“Yes, and you need to talk to him!” Sam’s voice broke. “He brought you back to me, Dean. You two deserve all the happiness in the world.”

He too had grown up too fast. Dean pulled him into a tight hug.

“I’ll try my best” he said. Sam stepped back and nodded.

“Don’t forget, you’re the King now” he teased him, “so you have to act all proper when asking him to marry you.”

Dean rolled his eyes but went to look for Cas.

* * *

“What is going on?” Gabriel whined. “You could at least talk to me – “

“What’s there to say? The rightful king is back on the throne, Lawrence is saved, you’re out of jail – “

“And you’re looking like something the cat dragged in, so waht gives?”

“Gabriel – “

“Cas!” Dean stepped up to them and Gabriel immediately vanished, as usual when it seemed their might be problems ahead.

If he’d been faster when they came to arrest, Cas wouldn’t have been here.

“Your Majesty” he greeted him. Dean flinched.

“Come on, Cas.”

“I am only calling you by the title you so rightfully deserve” Cas said, when suddenly Dean looked at him as if he was seeing him for the first time.

“It was you” he breathed. “The boy from the kitchen – the one who saves us that night.”

“Bobby saved you. I only helped – “

“Cas, I cannot thank you enough.”

Cas didn’t know what to do; if Dean remembered, if Dean knew, then he would be able to –

“Wait – you knew, didn’t you? You knew the truth. You must have from the moment I remembered what you told me.”

“I – I did” he admitted.

“Let me guess, Crowley tell you not to say anything?”

“He was right about that; you’re alive because of it.”

Dean nodded. “Still makes me pretty curious why you started to ignore me after that.”

"Dean, you’re... you’re the King. I was nothing but a kitchen boy in the Palace...”

“And? Never heard of Cinderella?” There was a gleam in Dean’s eyes now, and Cas both wanted to see it for the rest of his life and run away. It was all so confusing.

“But Dean – “

“No. No buts. Cas I need you to answer one question. Do you love me?”

Cas looked into his eyes and couldn’t lie. “With all my heart.”

Dean smiled. “I love you too. There’s a lot to be done, sunshine – I gotta help the people, take care of the orphanage I grew up in, renew diplomatic negotiations with our neighbours, fix the economy – and I want to do it all with you by my side.”

“Dean – “

Dean took his hands. “Will you marry me, Cas? Don’t get me wrong, I know it’s all kinds of crazy, we haven’t known each other that long, and I’m asking you to help me save an entire country. But this feels right, doesn’t it?”

“Yes” Cas admitted, looking at him. “I love you, Dean. I don’t understand it either but – we fit.”

“We really do, don’t we?” Dean said softly.

Cas nodded. “Yes” he breathed. “Yes. I want to marry you.”

Dean beamed as he drew him closer. “Look at us. Fairytale ending.”

“No” Cas corrected him, kissing him, “A new beginning.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry this came out so uneven. I hope you enjoyed it anyway!


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